


Hush Child, Don't You Cry

by Hazel_Athena



Series: Mag7Week [5]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Ghosts, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2018-12-26 08:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12055038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazel_Athena/pseuds/Hazel_Athena
Summary: Joshua fishes a key out of a potted plant sitting not far from the front door. "What?" He asks, turning the lock while Vasquez stares at him with raised eyebrows. "Things that go bump in the night rarely use doors anyway. It's hardly a huge breach of security.""I go bump in the night, and I use doors," Vasquez says helpfully.Joshua snorts. "You also chew on table legs when the mood strikes you. You're hardly the pinnacle of normalcy."





	Hush Child, Don't You Cry

**Author's Note:**

> Accidental sequel to Come Bay at the Moon, and written for the "Supernatural" prompt in Mag7Week, though I'll freely admit I had the idea on the go before then.

The entire pack, all nine of them, are clustered around the supper table, squeezed together elbow to elbow and knee to knee when Joshua's phone starts blaring "Mrs. Robinson" without warning. "Holy shit," he says, dropping his fork in favour of pulling the still shrieking phone out of the back pocket of his jeans, "wasn't expectin' that. Sorry, guys, I have to take this."

He's up and away from the table before anyone can get a word in edgewise, leaving the remaining eight staring at each other in confusion in his wake. The silence stretches out a little more than necessary before it's broken by Goodnight.

"Interesting song choice," he says, clearing his throat. He glances at Vasquez with a funny look in his eye. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but that's not his usual ringtone, is it?"

Vasquez, who has his own eyes still fixated on the doorway his partner has just oh so abruptly vanished through, shakes his head. "No, he uses a generic one usually."

"And you have no idea who this one might belong to?" Goodnight prods.

That's what finally makes Vasquez tear his gaze away from the doorway. "Obviously not," he doesn't quite snap. "I promise you, I'm just as confused as everybody else."

"Alright, there's no need to get all up in arms," Sam says, effectively cutting Goodnight - who has his hands raised defensively - off at the pass. "Faraday can tell us what's going on when he's good and ready. Until then, finish your meals."

They lapse back into silence, though this time now with an added layer of tension that doesn't go away until Teddy's voice pipes up a few minutes later. "If Joshua's not coming back, can I have his potatoes?"

*****

As it happens, Joshua doesn't come back, and most of the remaining food on his plate gets divided up by Red and Teddy before anyone can tell them not to. It's not a big deal, thankfully, there're plenty of leftovers that are going to be packed up and stored in the fridge. It does, however, indicate that strange happenings are afoot. Feeling mildly concerned, Vasquez gives his own plate the merest hint of a rinse and then racks it in the dishwasher before going in search of his wayward significant other.

He finds him in their room, still talking on the phone, which is wedged between his chin and shoulder as he stuffs various items into a duffle bag. His face has taken on an agitated cast, with his mouth tight and a look in his eye that suggests it'd be a bad idea to mess with him while he listens to whatever the person on the other end of the line has to say.

"Yeah, no, I hear you," he cuts in after several seconds have passed, "but are you _sure_ you're okay? It's goin' to take me a bit to get down there, and I don't like the idea of you bein' laid up without support. Yes, I know how long you've been in this business," he adds when his words result in a steady stream of invective flowing over the phone, "that don't mean jack shit if you can't fuckin' walk though."

Finally catching sight of Vasquez, his eyes widen slightly, and a guilty look crosses his face. "I've gotta go. Tell me you're alright." Vasquez hears a faint affirmative noise from the phone. "Good, stay that way. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Sighing, he shuts the phone off and tosses it down on the bed, where it'll no doubt get lost in the tangle of blankets, resulting in Joshua spending several moments irately searching for it with increasing frustration. It's happened before, and it will happen again.

That's not what Vasquez is focusing on now, however. Locking eyes with the man in front of him, he crosses his arms over his chest and leans one shoulder up against the doorframe, his posture a deliberate picture in studied nonchalance. "Going somewhere, guero?"

Surprisingly, Joshua doesn't try and front his way around the question. "North Carolina," he says simply. "A little blink and you'll miss it town called Rolla to be precise."

"I see," Vasquez slowly. He watches as Joshua resumes his packing. "And why are you heading there?"

"Because an old friend called with a job she needs my help on. Or, well, an old friend of my mother's if I'm bein' accurate, but I've known her for years and what she's dealin' with sounds like a right mess." Stepping away from the bag, Joshua wanders into their bathroom, his voice getting slightly fainter as he nevertheless keeps talking.

"She got word someone was disturbin' graves down there, and the town has a history of, uh, let’s go with supernatural activity, so she went down to check it out." He remerges with his hands full of toiletries and begins packing them as well.

"What did she find?" Vasquez asks when no further explanation seems to be forthcoming.

"Based on what she says she saw, my guess is a mage." 

Joshua's not looking at him now, and Vasquez feels warning klaxons start buzzing in his head. Against his will, he feels a chill run up his spine. "Cariño, what aren't you telling me?"

"Chris, my, uh, friend, she crossed paths with whatever's down there, and it didn't go well for her." Joshua clears his throat, his gaze still avoiding landing on Vasquez. "She's laid up in the hospital with a leg that's broken in two places and still doesn't know what's really goin' on."

"And you want to go into this place by yourself?" Vasquez demands, his voice rising slightly at the very idea. "Absolutely not!"

The protest earns him a scowl. "It's not up to you if I go or stay, big guy," Joshua says firmly, his voice low and his shoulders tense. "Ignorin' the fact that I'm one of the best in the business even post-retirement, I've known Chris since I was a kid, and if she's callin' in a favour I'm gonna answer."

"With no back up?" Vasquez demands, unable to believe what he's hearing. "Joshua, come on!"

Joshua shrugs. "Huntin' tends to be somethin' of a solitary lifestyle; I'm used to workin' alone. Plus, I'll have whatever info Chris can give me, it'll be fine."

Not for the first time and probably not for the last, Vasquez is confounded by Joshua's inability to ask for or accept help when he needs it. He'd thought they were passed all this, but apparently that had been wishful thinking. He pinches the bridge of his nose, takes a deep breath, and lets it out very slowly.

"Guero, you are not, I repeat _not_ going into a potentially dangerous situation without back up, and if you try, not only will I follow you - I will bring the entire pack with me. Up to and including Teddy, who I'm sure we can both agree would be an absolute disaster on a job like this."

Joshua stares at him, and Vasquez can see the exact moment it clicks that he's serious. "I don't need a babysitter," he says finally, or stutters really. "I am perfectly capable of handlin' things on my own, and don't you dare bring up that mess with Bogue," he adds warningly.

Vasquez, who'd been about to do exactly that, smirks at him. "If you need to bring it up first to get ahead of my argument then you know you've already lost. I am coming with you and that's final."

"Ale - " Joshua starts, but Vasquez cuts off whatever last ditch effort he's about to make with a wave of his hand.

"No." He says firmly. "Either tell me I can come with you, or I will march downstairs and let Sam and Emma know exactly what is going on."

The mention of the pack's two unofficial leaders is enough to seal the deal. His shoulders sagging, Joshua moves over to their closet, hauls out a second duffle bag, and dumps it down on the bed next to the first. "Fine," he says grimly. "Start packin'."

*****

Joshua's getting increasingly tense the closer they get to their destination. In the two days they've been on the road - stopping only periodically to pick up food or gas and switch out who's driving - he's slept fitfully and remained annoyingly tight lipped about most of the details of this case. 

Vasquez is half-tempted to pull over on the side of the road and refuse to move again if he doesn't get some answers, but he's afraid he might find himself stranded on the highway if he tries. It's been an exhausting trip for a number of reasons.

He's the one behind the wheel when they pass the first sign indicating Rolla isn't far away, but it's Joshua who stiffens in his seat. "Fuckin' finally," he mutters as the sign fades into the distance, "I thought we'd never get here with the way you drive."

Fully aware he's driving slightly above the speed limit, and has been every time he's been in the driver’s seat, Vasquez doesn't respond. Petty barbs have been Joshua's default setting for the past several hours, and rising to the bait only makes him worse.

Instead, Vasquez concentrates on getting them where they need to be. As noted, Joshua's been less than forthcoming with information, but one thing Vasquez is certain of is that he's been here before, probably on multiple occasions, although why that is remains a mystery.

"So where am I going again?" He asks as the town limits come into sight.

"I'll tell you when to turn," Joshua promises, lapsing back into silence as soon as he's done.

However, as promised, he does direct Vasquez where he needs to go. Once they hit the town itself, he rattles off a series of directions that lead them to an older residential area of all places. 

"Really?" Vasquez asks dubiously as they pull into the driveway of a nondescript house that looks like one of a thousand family homes he's seen in his lifetime. "This isn't what I was expecting when you mentioned having a safe house."

"Why not? It's a house, isn't it?" Joshua asks, something of his usual humour colouring his voice as he climbs out of the car.

Rolling his eyes, Vasquez does the same, and follows him up to the front entrance. "How are we going to get inside?" They haven't made contact with Christine yet, and she's the one who's rented this place.

In answer, Joshua fishes a key out of a potted plant sitting not far from the front door. "What?" He asks, turning the lock while Vasquez stares at him with raised eyebrows. "Things that go bump in the night rarely use doors anyway. It's hardly a huge breach of security."

"I go bump in the night, and I use doors," Vasquez says helpfully.

Joshua snorts. "You also chew on table legs when the mood strikes you. You're hardly the pinnacle of normalcy."

"That's more Teddy than me," Vasquez points out, but Joshua's already entered the house and doesn't answer. Sighing, Vasquez adjusts his bag on his shoulder and trudges after him.

The inside is sparsely furnished, but Vasquez has seen worse and figures the place will do the trick. They dump their bags in one of two bedrooms upstairs before wandering back down in search of food. Well, that's Vasquez's reason anyway; he's less sure about Joshua.

Opening the fridge door is a decision he immediately regrets. His sense of smell as a human is far less acute than it is as a wolf, but it's still leagues beyond that of most people's. Gagging at the stench of multiple items past their best before date, he slams the door shut again and turns to look at Joshua.

"I'll pop into the store when I'm on my way back from seeing Chris," he says, effectively following Vasquez’s inevitable train of thought. "And if you like, I'll be nice and toss whatever's gone off in there before I go. That was you won’t have to touch it."

"It's fine, I'll take care of it." Vasquez tells him. He doesn't want Joshua to have to delay on checking in with his friend, but he's also not waiting for him to get back to ditch the food. Some of it looked like it was mere moments away from gaining sentience. "You go."

Joshua's expression softens, some of the tension he's been carrying for the past two days bleeding away and replaced by obvious affection. He steps forward and brushes a kiss to Vasquez's cheek. "Thanks, darlin'. I'll be as quick as I can."

"Take your time, I'm not going anywhere." Vasquez earns himself a second kiss for this, and then he's alone in the kitchen with nothing to do but face off against a bunch of rancid groceries and take out containers.

He's pretty sure he'd rather deal with the mage.

*****

The hospital lights are obnoxiously bright when Faraday steps through the sliding glass doors. He blinks a few times, willing his eyes to regain focus before he makes his way over to the reception area.

A harried looking ward clerk is viciously typing something into the computer in front of her, her fingers flying over the keys faster and faster the closer he gets. She holds up a finger when he clears his throat to get her attention, her eyes never leaving the screen. "Unless you're bleeding out this instant, you're going to have to wait until I'm done."

"I just need a room number," he tries, but this, if anything, makes her even less inclined to help him.

"Two seconds!" She barks, immediately making a liar out of herself when that amount of time and more passes without her looking up.

Finally she lets out a triumphant sound, and stabs at her keyboard one last time. Once that's done, she whirls around in her chair, turning to look at Faraday so quickly he's surprised she doesn't get whiplash. "Alright, what can I do for you?"

"I need a room number," he repeats. "You've got a Christine Ellington in here somewhere, and I'm down to visit her."

"Uh huh," the woman, the name tag on her chest reads 'Monica', calls up a new window on her computer. "Is that spelled with a C h or a K?"

"The first one," he supplies, "and that last name is ..."

"Yeah, no worries, I heard you the first time." Absently waving a hand at him, she types the full name in and squints at the chart that pops up. "She's in room four twenty seven. Take the elevator back behind this desk to the fourth floor and then make a left when you come to the end of the hallway. There'll be signs tellin' you where to go for the rest of the walk."

"Thanks," Faraday says, but she's already moved on to something else and barely acknowledges him as he leaves. "For the record, you may want to consider switchin' your coffee to decaf, jesus wept."

Poor customer service skills aside, Monica's directions turn out to be accurate, and by the time he's still four doors down from the one he's aiming for, Faraday can hear a familiar voice drifting out into the hallway. Poking his head into the room, he grins at what he finds.

Christine Ellington is a hell of a woman who stands only a little shorter than Faraday's own 6'2''. She and his mother had always gotten along like a house on fire, thanks in part to their having very similar personalities. From his current vantage point, it seems that Christine is trying to use said personality to bully a hapless doctor into letting her leave, despite the fact that her left leg is suspended and the air and encased in plaster from knee to ankle.

Leaning against the doorframe, Faraday can't help but chuckle. "I'm thinkin' you're fightin' a losin' battle there, Chris. Quit talkin' the good doctor's ear off, and accept the fact that you're not goin' anywhere for a bit."

"Josh!" Christine's head whips around to flash him a smile, while off to the side the doctor lets out a relieved sigh over no longer being the main focus of her attention. "When'd you get in, kiddo? You didn't text."

 "I did actually," Faraday informs her as he comes into the room, "but I figure you were too busy makin' a nuisance of yourself to pay attention." He nods at her bum leg. "What's the verdict?"

She huffs, glaring down at the limb in question. "The damn thing's broken in two places, and good doctor here already had to go in and shove some bits of metal inside to hold it all together, which apparently means I've got to sit around here on my ass for the next however many days."

"Ms. Ellington," the doctor pipes up, right away putting Faraday in mind of a high strung bird with its feathers ruffled, "this wasn’t a small operation, you need to give the bones some time to set before anything else can happen. Something they won’t do if you keep moving around."

Christine makes a disgusted sound, and Faraday can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the doctor. He also resolves to apologize to Alejandro when this is all over, on the off chance that he'd been this difficult while recuperating from the wounds he'd suffered during the whole Bogue fiasco.

Surprisingly, the doctor manages to find a backbone from somewhere. He tells Christine in no uncertain terms that she's not being released yet, and she's just going to have to live with this. Finally he leaves with a nod at Faraday and a reminder that visiting hours are up fairly soon.

"To hell with that, stay as long as you like," Christine orders as the door closes behind the man. She gives Faraday a sunny grin. "You look good, kid. What've you been up to since I saw you last? It's been a couple of years at this point."

"Little more than that," Faraday replies, "not quite three, I'd say. And I'm good. Kind of, uh, yeah."

Kind of, uh, yeah?" She repeats, one eyebrow arching high on her forehead. "Now what does that mean when it's at home?"

Faraday rubs the back of his neck, and tries very hard not to think about the fact that he'd still been in diapers when Christine had first met him. "Ain't really been doin' much huntin' this past little while. I've had the odd job here and there, but other than that ..."

"Other than that?" Now both Christine's eyebrows go up, and she gives him a baffled look. "The hell are you on about, Josh?"

He feels it as his face flushes. "Might be there's a boy," he mumbles, and Christine lets out a noise best described as a cackle.

"No shit?" She asks. "You've got yourself a fella?" At his answering nod, she smacks her good leg, looking delighted. "Well, I'll be damned. I can honestly say that one never crossed my mind, sorry. What's he like? I'm going to go out on a limb and guess he's not a hunter if you're taking fewer jobs."

"He's not, not even close," Faraday replies, grinning a little. "In fact, I think you could say he's as far from bein' a hunter as it’s possible to get."

"Huh, yeah. I can see why you might be less inclined to take on jobs if you had to worry about keeping them secret." She reclines back against her pillows, hitting him with a piercing stare. "Are you okay with that, though? You think he's worth getting out of the game for?"

Faraday ducks his head. "He's - yeah. There's no question."

Christine lets out a low whistle. "So it's like that, is it? Love and not lust?"

"It hasn't been lust for months," Faraday replies, knowing full well what he's saying as he does so. "He's - fuck, he's kinda perfect, Chris. I mean, okay, he's not, he's a total food snob and likes to yell at me in Spanish when I've pissed him off and those are just a few of his many flaws, but - yeah."

He very pointedly doesn't mention the _other_ reason Christine might be less than thrilled about Alejandro. That bit is very much staying a secret.

"Hey," Christine snaps her fingers, effectively dragging him away from the darker path his thoughts had been about to take. "It's a good thing, kiddo. I guarantee you your Ma would be thrilled if she was here to see this. So long as he treats you right, of course."

There are so many things he could say to that, but Faraday goes with a simple, "He does."

"Good, I expect to meet him someday. Not now, though," she says when Faraday blanches, her expression going suddenly grim. "Now, I should probably catch you up on what's been happening, so we can make sure to get you back to said boy in one piece."

"Right," Faraday says, his own mood souring at the reminder of what they're dealing with. "Lay it on me."

*****

The safe house is pitch black when Faraday returns, the only light he can see being the one outdoors on the front porch. Lugging the groceries he’d stopped to pick up after visiting Christine, he uses this to let himself inside the house, flicking on more lights as he goes so he can see.

"Darlin'?" He calls as he clears the main entrance way. "You still up?"

Fully expecting any answer he might receive to come from the bedroom, Faraday's surprised to say the least when a grumbling noise emits from the living room. Making a quick stop to put the groceries in the kitchen - there’s luckily nothing in the bags that requires the fridge aside from milk and a carton of eggs - Faraday heads in the direction the sound had come from. Once he hits the room, he runs a hand along the wall until he finds a light switch which he then slides upwards.

Light spills into the room, illuminating the large canine shape sprawled lengthwise over the couch, and Alejandro whines piteously as he tries to cover his eyes with a heavy paw.

Laughing at the unexpected sight, Faraday moves into the room and shoves at him until he gives up some space on the couch. "Hey, handsome," he says, digging his hands into the were's thick ruff as Alejandro rests his head in his lap. "What're you still doin' up?"

"You weren't waitin' up for me, were you?" He asks when the thought occurs to him.

Alejandro groans, heartfelt and tired.

"Is that a yes?" Faraday asks, shifting his hand up to scratch behind one of the were's ears. "Darlin', you didn't have to do that. I told you I was goin' to be a while."

This time Alejandro makes a dismissive sound, and shoves at Faraday reproachfully.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm not the boss of you, I know. Well in that case _I'm_ goin' to bed, and you can do what you want." Putting action to words, he pushes Alejandro back until he has enough space to squirm free. Once that's accomplished, he starts off towards the bedroom.

There's a whine and a heavy thump behind him that tells him Alejandro is following.

Faraday makes a detour into the bathroom on his way by. He takes some time to clean up a bit, eventually stripping down to his boxers before heading to bed.

Alejandro's already there when he gets in, fully human and with the blankets pulled up over his shoulders so he can burrow into their warmth the way he likes best. It's a sight Faraday's seen countless times over the past year, but for some reason, tonight it makes his chest tighten.

"Guero?" The half-asleep murmur spurs Faraday into moving again, and he's under the covers between one blink and the next, settling down beside Alejandro, who yawns and blinks tiredly up at him. "How is your friend?"

"She's okay," Faraday assures him. "Pissed as hell about bein' laid up, but that's all."

"Mm. Did she give you the," pause to let another yawn out, "rundown you needed?"

Faraday nods, even though Alejandro's eyes have slipped shut, and he can't see him. "She did, but we can talk about that tomorrow. Sleep now, fight off the supernatural in the mornin'."

He gets a quiet snore in response.

*****

Vasquez wakes to an empty bed and unfamiliar surroundings, neither of which he particularly cares for, and the smell of freshly cooked pancakes wafting in from somewhere else in the house, which he does. Shoving the covers back, he rolls out of bed and decides to follow his nose.

"I figured you'd be up soon." Shoving a forkful of breakfast into his mouth, Joshua slides a stack of pancakes across the table, motioning for Vasquez to sit down. "Made 'em just the way you like 'em."

"Gracias, guero." Vasquez drops into the empty seat and reaches for the knife and fork combination Joshua's left out for him, his stomach rumbling at the sight of the food. "What time is it?"

"Little after ten," Joshua mumbles around another mouthful of food. "What?"

Apparently having failed to contain his surprised noise, Vasquez shrugs. "I'm just surprised you let me sleep that long. Don't you want to get started on this mage problem right away?"

"As soon as possible, yeah, but there's shit to consider before we do that." Joshua spends longer than necessary sawing through one of his pancakes, only to wind up stuffing most of it into his mouth in one go anyway.

"Guero," Vasquez wrinkles his nose in distaste when he sees this.

Unable to respond verbally because of the food in his mouth, Joshua cheerfully flips him off. It seems his mood has drastically improved between now and last night, a fact that Vasquez thinks about commenting on, but then decides against. Instead he waits for Joshua to swallow and see what he has to say.

"The cemetery's under police observation," Joshua says after he's finished his bite and washed it down with a gulp of coffee. From the smell of it it's an instant brand. Disgusting. "Their presence is heavy enough no matter what, so it makes sense to use the cover of night to help hide us when we go in. Hence we’re not goin’ anywhere until the evening."

"And until then? What do we do until it's time to go to the cemetery?" Vasquez clarifies when Joshua looks confused by his initial question.

"Oh. I'm gonna look through all the notes Chris left behind." He shrugs. "She gave me a decent rundown in the hospital, but we were short on time and the doc gave her a shot of pain meds near the end. It's best if I go over everything to be thorough."

Vasquez is once again reminded that this is what Joshua did for more than a decade prior to their meeting and his resulting semi-retirement. This is him in his element, something no one regularly sees these days. Part of him wonders if that's a good thing or a bad.

When he looks up again it's possible he's been silent a little too long because Joshua's watching him shrewdly. Not wanting to reveal what he'd just been thinking, Vasquez gives the other man a shrug of his own. "Sounds like there's not much for me to do until we leave again. Maybe I should go back to bed."

Joshua's eyes narrow. "Not happenin'," he says flatly. "You're stayin' with me because _you're_ goin' to read as much of Chris’ stuff as possible too. Cliff notes version doesn't cut it with shit like this. You go in with as many details as possible or you don't go in at all."

He's serious, Vasquez can tell he is, so the only thing to do is raise his hands in surrender as Joshua continues to stare him down. "Alright, whatever you say. At least those details should be interesting."

Not long after that Vasquez finds himself sitting in the living room, paging through various texts that Christine has scattered about the place. Just about the only thing he hasn't had his eyes on at this point is the woman's personal journal, which Joshua had reached for first, claiming he may as well be the one to parse through it because he's familiar with Christine's terrible handwriting. Personally, Vasquez couldn't care one way or the other.

"What makes her so sure it's a mage?" He asks sometime in the afternoon. He's sprawled out on the floor now, probably leaving an indentation of his body in the pale carpet, and he can only partly see Joshua where he's stretched out lengthwise along the couch.

"Hmm?" Joshua places Christine's notebook facedown over his stomach, and leans over the edge of the couch to peer down at him. "What was that?"

Vasquez repeats his question, and adds for further clarification, "I'm not finding anything that says she actually saw a mage, are you? All I've seen are notes on ghosts."

"That's because it was ghosts that attacked her," Joshua replies. "Multiple ones. By Chris's count there're twenty four graves disturbed at the cemetery, all of them clustered together in the same spot, and it was only after that happened that the ghosts started showin' up. Someone had to have been involved on the outside."

"But why a mage?"

Joshua gives him a crooked smile. "Darlin', the average person isn't able to summon ghosts by pickin' at their graves. I couldn't do it. If someone woke these poor bastards up, it was someone with power."

"Makes sense," Vasquez allows, "but I still don't see the point of it all."

"Well that's what we need to find out." Joshua tells him. "I can tell you this much though, in my experience, folks don't summon the dead en masse for nice reasons. Whoever we're after, they ain't up to anythin' good."

"Mmm." Vasquez hums a little to himself and drums his fingers absently over his stomach. "You said this town sees a lot of supernatural activity. Why is that?"

Joshua shrugs as he once again rolls over onto his back. "Couldn't tell you. Some places just have that kind of history, and Rolla happens to be one of 'em."

"And that's why you've been here more than once?"

"Among other things. Actually, I was born here." Joshua drops this particular bomb like it means nothing, but Vasquez is propped up on his elbows and staring at him without conscious thought. 

"What?" Joshua asks, shifting uncomfortably. "It's not that big a deal."

Vasquez scowls at him. He can't be sure, but this new information might go a long way towards explaining why Joshua's so wound up over this particular case. "Guero, you hoard details from your past life, it is so a big deal."

"Oh please," Joshua scoffs. "We left before I was three and only came back periodically. I'm hardly attached to the place."

There's a lilt in his voice that tells Vasquez he's lying, but also not to push him on the matter. Lowering himself back down on the carpet, Vasquez huffs. "Should I ask if there's anything else you've decided to leave out about this job?"

"I told you everythin' you need to know, and I'm makin' you read up on it. You're good."

Vasquez considers pointing out that he's evading the question, but in the end decides against it. He trusts Joshua to never put him in actual danger through a lack of information, so he may as well leave him be here.

Although if this comes back to bite them in the ass later, he's not above saying 'I told you so'.

*****

It takes Vasquez all of two seconds to decide he hates the Ardmore Cemetery and all of five seconds to decide he's shifting into wolf form and staying that way until they leave. On top of its generally unpleasant aura, the cemetery is absolutely freezing, the temperature having plummeted when the sun went down. He wants the added buffer of a fur coat between him and the chill.

"Cheater," Joshua says when he sees this. He rubs his hands together and blows on them for added measure. "Fuck it's cold, and that's a bad sign."

Vasquez tilts his head inquiringly up at him, asking a question with his posture that he can't with his mouth.

"Ghosts are cold," Joshua explains. "It takes a lot of energy for them to manifest, so they take it from wherever they can find it, even the air around them. For this place to be this cold, I'm guessin' there's roughly a fuckton of them nearby."

Not liking the sound of that, Vasquez lets his ears flatten as the current temperature takes on a much more sinister notion. 

"Easy, big guy," Joshua soothes, trailing long fingers through the fur of Vasquez's back. "It ain't nothin' to get worked up about yet. Let's go take a look in the crypt."

And wasn't that a lovely thought. As he'd promised, Joshua had read through the entirety of Christine's journal and also distilled down what the woman herself had told him the night before. In short, the cemetery has a crypt located right at its centre which she postulates has something dangerous inside. How the ghosts might tie into this they don't yet know, but it certainly sounds ominous.

Joshua takes the lead with Vasquez trotting along behind him. Under normal circumstances it might make more sense for their positions to be reversed, but Joshua had been insistent on a number of things before they'd left the safe house, and this had been one of them.

The crypt is initially unassuming, rising out of the darkness in front of them, and looking altogether nonthreatening. Its doors are locked upon their arrival, but breaking and entering is just one of Joshua's many skills. Crouching down to fiddle with it, he does whatever it is he does when confronted with locked doors, while Vasquez sits back on his haunches at the top of the steps.

He can tell the moment the lock opens because there's a sharp clicking sounds accompanied by a small triumphant noise from Joshua. Then the door is being shoved back, and they're able to head inside.

Joshua doesn't move right away. For some reason he stays crouched in the same position he'd been in while picking the lock, only shifting when Vasquez steps up next to him with an inquiring noise. His hand rises to scratch at the underside of Vasquez's chin for a moment until he finally stands.

"Okay, darlin'," he murmurs. "Let's go see what we're dealin' with."

His ears once again flattening of their own accord, Vasquez nevertheless moves forward as Joshua does. The inside of the crypt is noticeably colder than outside, so much that their breath is visible in the illumination provided by the flashlight Joshua's just turned on, and he doesn't think it's a natural shift. His fur is rising all long his spine, telling him in no uncertain terms that something isn't right.

If Vasquez were able, he'd open his mouth to say as much. Since he can't, he contents himself with a low continuous whine until Joshua stops him with a hand on his neck.

"I know, darlin'," he says, tone hushed. "Trust me, I feel it too."

Just what they're feeling Vasquez doesn't have a name for, but it makes him move closer to Joshua, not stopping until his shoulder brushes up against the man's leg. Joshua doesn't say anything, but the hand he briefly buries in Vasquez's fur is commentary enough.

Belatedly Vasquez realizes there's more to the crypt than he'd initially thought. While the outer building visible from the cemetery had been only a little bigger than an overly large shed, there's a staircase leading downwards now they're inside, implying there's a whole portion of the structure that continues on underground.

Vasquez doesn't like it, and whines to show his displeasure.

"Ale, I know," Joshua tells him, "but we need to see if anythin's down there. You can stay here if you like, but I'm goin'."

 _That_ gets Vasquez moving. There's no way in hell he's leaving Joshua to face whatever this is alone. He may not like it, and he's going to throw a dozen different I-told-you-sos around when it all goes to shit, but with luck they'll both still be alive by the end of the night for him to do that.

The stairs bottom out at the end of a tunnel that's lined with multiple closed, heavy doors, tapering off in the distance in a room with a pale blue glow emanating out from inside it. If it weren't for the feeling of wrongness telling him this was absolutely something to avoid, Vasquez would be tempted to roll his eyes at the cliché.

 

"'Cause that ain't at all ominous," Joshua mutters, shutting his flashlight off and stuffing it back into the pocket it'd initially come from. He sounds almost offended at how obvious everything is, and Vasquez winds up amused in spite of himself.

Flicking his tail in a casual show of bravado, Vasquez steps forward, only to stop when Joshua makes a grab for him. Cocking his head the side, he lets out an inquiring noise which gets more pointed when Joshua shakes him.

"Hush up, big guy, and please do as I say."

The angle of angle of the door is such that Joshua's able to sidle up next to it and risk a quick peek into the room. He ducks back almost as quickly, and Vasquez, who's lower to the ground and therefore not quite as noticeable, mirrors the motion on a slightly larger scale.

There are about two dozen people inside the room, all of them transparent but one - a man standing at the far corner of it, facing away from them. He's hunched over what appears to be a desk of some kind, turning something over and over in his hands while he mutters to himself. It doesn't take a genius to determine he's probably the mage they're looking for.

Vasquez steps back and peers up at Joshua. The man has gone stiff, his mouth tense as he takes a few calming breaths, while his fingers clench and unclench at his sides. It's clear he doesn't like what he's seen.

"Looks like Chris was right," he says when he catches Vasquez watching him. "He's been looking for somethin', most likely whatever he's got in his hands there. Though I've gotta wonder what the ghosts are for."

"Oh a bit of this and a bit of that," a new voice says. Both Vasquez and Joshua whirl around to find the mage has somehow appeared behind them without bothering to leave the room via the door. He shrugs when he sees he has their attention. "You'd be surprised how versatile the undead can be. So many uses, so little time."

He's not a large man, Vasquez notes, but then again neither is Billy back home, yet he'd be hard pressed to think of someone more dangerous. The mage is even more slender than Billy though, with a slight build and sandy blond hair that's rather absurdly falling into his eyes. There's something unpleasant about him however, despite his non-threatening image, an aura that says not to mess with him.

Although, that might be due to the two ghosts flanking him. While the rest are nowhere to be seen, these two, a heavyset man whose piercings had followed him into the afterlife and a tall red headed woman who couldn't have been much older than forty when she died, look like they mean business. Or at least the man does, looming in place with a menacing air to him. The woman cocks her head to the side as if she's trying to figure out a puzzle, her brow furrowing noticeably.

The mage keeps his attention on Joshua, who’s gone rigid at his appearance and is staring at the two ghosts. "I wasn't expecting company," he says almost conversationally. "Though I guess maybe I should have since you're not the first to show up. Are you with the woman who was poking around a couple days ago? I didn't meet her, but I heard about her from some of my other ... friends. How is she?"

"I've got no idea what you're talkin' about, so I couldn't say," Joshua replies. His posture taking on a deliberately composed stance, he shifts from foot to foot, holding up his hands in a calming gesture. "I'm just a lost tourist who likes visitin’ graveyards. Give me half a second and I'll get on my way."

"Really?" The mage asks, shaking his head in disbelief. "That's what you're going with? I can see your gun, buddy, and your posture screams hunter, as does the fact that you're not fainting at the sight of a pair of spirits."

"Eh," Joshua drawls almost lazily. "I've smoked a lot of shit I shouldn't in my time, seen all kinds of stuff you wouldn’t believe."

In spite of the situation, Vasquez feels a very strong urge to roll his eyes, a fact the mage must share because he actually does so. "Why don't we try this again? The name's McGregor. What do I call you?"

Joshua remains silent, and McGregor sighs. "Honestly, you try to be nice. Well," he adds, wriggling his fingers until a pale blue spark, the same color as the glow from the room, trails between two of them, "I suppose there's more than one way to get it out of you."

Without intending too, Vasquez growls.

McGregor glances down, seemingly noticing him for the first time where he's curled around Joshua's side with his hackles up. "Damn," he says simply. "Aren't you a big beastie?" He quirks an eyebrow at Joshua, and the sparks around his fingers intensify. "He's a bit of an odd choice for a partner, isn't he?"

Joshua's heart starts beating faster. "S'just a dog," he says, shifting so he's more in front of Vasquez than not. "Ain't any need to add torturin' puppies and kittens to whatever else you've already done."

"That's no puppy," McGregor replies, although whether he knows what Vasquez is entirely or is just referring to his size is unclear. "And I don't know what this trick might do to him. Let’s try it and see."

“Wha -?” Joshua starts to ask, but he’s drowned out by Vasquez’s yelp when the sparks leap from McGregor’s fingers and slam into his chest.

It feels like he’s on fire, either that or being electrocuted. Vasquez has no frame of reference for either, so all he can say is that it hurts, it hurts worse than anything else he’s ever felt before and drops him to the cold concrete floor when his legs give out. Distantly he registers the feeling of hands on him as Joshua hits the ground beside him, swearing profusely.

“Jesus fuck, leave him alone, damnit! He didn’t do anythin’ to you!” Joshua follows this up with a series of insults that Vasquez would tell him to stop if he were able because the last thing he wants to do is egg McGregor on for more. It’s a pity for him all he’s able to do is writhe on the ground and try not to whimper.

Then there’s a loud bang, and the pain stops just as suddenly as it had begun. Panting heavily, Vasquez raises his head to see that Joshua’s drawn his gun and has it pointed at McGregor. Smell from the discharge tells him that the sound he’d heard must have been Joshua firing the weapon, but it seems to have had no effect on McGregor, who’s still standing exactly where he had been previously, unmoved.

Letting out a pained groan, Vasquez rolls over and makes to get to his feet, only to freeze when Joshua stills him with his free hand. Long fingers curl around his shoulder, weaving into his fur and holding him in place. “Easy, big guy,” Joshua murmurs, so low that McGregor likely can’t hear him. “You just stay down for now.”

Drawing his hand away, Joshua adjusts the grip on his gun, keeping it zeroed in on McGregor. “Alright, friend,” he growls. “You want the truth? Fine, you called it. I’m just what you think I am, and I’m goin’ to make you regret what you just did, just as soon as I throttle the details of what’s goin’ on here out of you.”

McGregor actually has the nerve to yawn at this. Waving an errant hand, he snaps his fingers and suddenly Joshua’s gun is no longer in his hands, but hovering a little in front of the mage’s face. “Is that so?” McGregor drawls, unimpressed. “Well, you can certainly try, but me, I’d think better of it if I were you.”

He snaps his fingers a second time, and now the gun vanishes completely. Vasquez has no idea where it’s gone, if it’s simply been sent elsewhere or if it’s ceased to exist entirely, all he knows is that matters are getting worse for them with each passing second.

Despite Joshua’s instructions, he struggles to his feet, pleased to find he feels better as soon as he’s upright. Whatever McGregor had done to him, while it had hurt like hell, didn’t appear to have brought about any lasting damage. With a little luck, the remaining aftereffects will fade as quickly as they appeared.

McGregor eyes him as he stands, his gaze flicking quickly back and forth between Vasquez and Joshua before he seems to come to a decision. Glancing at first one of the ghost’s at his side and then the other, he lets out a thoughtful noise before gesturing to the pierced man. “You come with me. We’re going to put these two somewhere they can’t get into trouble while I decide what to do with them. And you,” he says, now addressing the woman, “you go back to the others. You’ve got a bit of a nobility streak that I don’t quite trust.”

The woman says nothing, and her face remains implacable as she slowly fades out of sight. Vasquez wonders if McGregor’s words mean that some of the ghosts possess more sense of self than others. Quietly filing away this information for examination at a later date, he focuses back in on their immediate circumstances.

McGregor, along with the remaining ghost, steps closer with an unpleasant expression curling his features. “Now then, you two can either come easily, or you can be difficult. Which is it going to be?” He raises his hands, fingers sparking ominously once again. “For the record, I don’t care one way or the other.”

This time it’s Joshua who growls, but he puts up no other protests.

*****

They wind up being locked in what was probably a storage room at one point, but now functions effectively as a cell. Vasquez is inadvertently reminded of the night Joshua had found out what he is - only now their surroundings are considerably colder and damper.

Not to mention this time he's not wildly angry and feeling betrayed.

Joshua makes a frustrated noise as their host bolts the door behind them, grinning as he says he'll come let them out later if he remembers. "Jackass," Joshua mutters as the door closes. He shivers too, looking over at Vasquez. "Gonna be a damned miserable night if we can't get that door open. At least you've got all that fur of yours to keep you warm."

In answer, Vasquez slides back into his human shape. "Let me see if I can't do some damage," he says once he has a mouth he can form words with. The chilled air is unpleasant on his exposed skin, but he walks over to the door and shoves at it lightly. There's no give at all so he does it again, harder this time. "This could be a problem."

"It's definitely a problem." Running an agitated hand through his hair, Joshua glares at the door. "He locked that thing from the outside. There's nothin' in here for me to try and pick it with."

"So we're stuck." Vasquez supplies.

"At least until he comes back, it looks like." Joshua agrees.

Vasquez shivers slightly, and if he's being honest it's not entirely due to the cold. "And if he doesn't?"

Joshua shrugs, seeming strangely unconcerned. "I have a sneakin' suspicion someone'll be along eventually. If nothing else, Chris knows where we, well, I, went. She'll get nervous when I don't check in and arrange to have someone come search."

"That could take ages," Vasquez points out, "and who knows what they'll run into when they come to see."

"I never said this job was safe, darlin'." Joshua's tone is initially reproachful, but he drops that almost immediately. "Sorry, I'm not tryin' to start shit. I’m just tired and annoyed at the same time. How’re you feelin’?"

He says this last part in a worried way, and Vasquez can’t help but smile at the obvious concern in his voice. “I’m fine, guero,” he assures. “It hurt like hell, but it passed just as quick.”

Joshua grunts, his mouth turning down in a frown. “I’m goin’ to make him regret that. I was already set to make his life a livin’ hell for what he’s already done, but this just adds to it.” He gives Vasquez a tired look, his face softening. "Why don't you put your fur coat back on? You'll be warmer and better able to fight off our friend if and when he comes back."

Seeing the logic in this suggestion, Vasquez does as requested, feeling pleased when the cold is no longer quite so biting as his fur begins coming in and thickening.

By the time he's back on all fours, thoroughly warmer than he had been and with most of his senses considerably sharper, Joshua's settled himself on the ground with his back against the wall and his arms wrapped tightly around his torso. "C'mere, would you?" He asks, stretching out a beckoning hand once Vasquez is done. "Share some of that heat of yours."

Not having to be asked twice, Vasquez pads over to where he's sitting and curls up around him, letting him bury his hands in his fur and leech some of the warmth out. "Now that's what I'm talkin' about," Joshua mutters. "God love you, you walkin' furnace."

Pillowing his head on his front paws, Vasquez rolls his eyes but can't stop himself from letting out a pleased rumble as Joshua scratches at the fur of his neck. Long fingers skim down exactly the way that he likes, and in spite of the situation, his tail wags of its own accord.

"Easily pleased is as easily pleased does," Joshua laughs somewhat nonsensically. "As much as this sucks, I can't say as I mind the company."

Vasquez huffs out a breath in agreement.

They stay like that until there's a new chill in the hair, this one familiar now, and it makes Vasquez's fur stand on end. 

"What is it?" Joshua asks as he tenses. "Ale?"

Vasquez doesn't answer, except to twist around so he can stare at the door. It doesn't open, but the temperature noticeably drops a few degrees as one of the ghosts slides into the room. Recognizing the tall woman who'd been flanking McGregor earlier, Vasquez's lip curls, and he snarls.

"No. Don't." His own voice harsh in a way Vasquez doesn't understand, Joshua tenses beneath him and holds him in place with a cautionary hand. "It's - I think it's alright, darlin'."

Confused, Vasquez briefly turns back around to look at him, inevitably following his gaze to where it's locked on the woman's face. Unable to stop himself, he whines.

"Hush," Joshua says softly, one of his hands coming up to stroke soothingly along Vasquez's flank. "It's okay. She's not going to hurt us."

Unsure of why he thinks that, Vasquez peers up at the ghost. She still hasn't said or done anything, but the expression on her face reminds him that he'd felt this one was different from the other one. More self-aware.

She cocks her head to the side, suddenly looking one part sad and one part exasperated. Arms cross over her chest the same way Joshua's do right before he calls something or someone ten different kinds of stupid, and she shakes her head. "And just what exactly have you gotten yourself into this time, child of mine?"

Vasquez feels his heart stop, a hand tightening in his fur the only thing keeping him from jerking upright in surprise. Beneath him, Joshua's entire body locks up, and he lets out a shuddering breath. 

"Hey, ma. What's up?"

Eleanor Faraday, who'd left her only son alone in the world when she'd died without a word twelve years ago, arches an ethereal eyebrow and sighs.

*****

Faraday's half expecting Alejandro to pull away after he drops that bomb, but he doesn't, instead choosing to just whine a second time, the sound starting low in his throat and then getting higher the longer it continues. "Easy," he soothes, pathetically grateful for the distraction. "She's harmless, big guy. I promise."

His mother - Jesus Christ, _his mother_ \- snorts. "I've never been harmless a day in my life, Josh, or my afterlife for that matter, and you know it. What's with the dog?"

She knows. Faraday can tell without asking that she knows exactly what Alejandro is, and so she should. The woman hadn't gotten to be one of the best hunters in the business without learning how to tell a full grown werewolf from an everyday mutt.

Still, if she wants to play this game for a little while, Faraday will let her. This is a ghost wearing his mother's face, and while there's enough of her in there to at least let her recognize him, automatically assuming she's the one in control isn't a risk he can take, especially not when it's more than just his ass on the line.

"This is Ale," he says finally, scratching one of Alejandro's ears distractedly. "Careful, he bites."

Alejandro turns to give him a baleful glare, and Faraday shrugs, smiling a little against his will. "Well you do."

"I'll take my chances," his mother says dryly. Reaching back she presses her hand against the wall behind her, the tips of her fingers sinking into the stone up to the first knuckle. "Awful hard to take a chunk out of someone who's no better than thin air."

Twitching, Faraday buries both his hands in Alejandro's coat, petting maybe a little harder than necessary if the ensuing grunt is anything to go by. Still, Alejandro doesn't pull away, simply stays where he is and lets Faraday focus on him rather than the ghostly elephant in the room.

Unfortunately, it appears his mother is much less willing to humour him. Clearing her throat until she has his attention, she rests her hands on her hips, her eyes raking up and down his body as she takes him in. "Looks like you finally grew into your limbs, baby," she says, and this time when Faraday's hands tighten in Alejandro's fur it's hard enough to make the were yelp.

"Sorry, sorry," Faraday apologizes. He spends longer than necessary patting the displaced fur back into place, only glancing back up at his mother when he's sure every strand is where it should be.

"You weren't there to see it." The words are hushed, yet all the more accusatory for that. They're not what he means to say, or even how he wants to say it, but they're what comes out.

Her face falls and she takes a step back, almost as if he's slapped her. However, that's the only slip up she makes. Rallying pretty much immediately, she nods. "If it helps, I wanted to be."

Faraday feels an unexpected swell of bitterness start churning in his gut, rising up his throat like bile, ready to choke him. If asked, he'd honestly be able to say this isn't at all what he'd expect to feel if he ever got the chance to see his mother again, yet here he is, wounded, angry, and with hurt twisting him up in knots.

Before he can say anything, however, a sharp stinging sensation cuts through the fog in his brain, and he looks down to find Alejandro pulling his teeth back from where he's just nipped sharply at Faraday's fingers. "The fuck?"

Alejandro offers up the smallest apologetic swipe of his tongue over the digits, but otherwise remains unmoved.

"You're such an asshole," Faraday mutters, but there's not an ounce of heat in the words. The action had been just what he needed to drag himself away from the dark road his thoughts had been about to go for a wander down, bringing him back to the here and now with relative ease.

Focused now, he pushes Alejandro away, knowing full well that the were only moves because he's willing to and not because of any great strength on Faraday's part. Once that's done, he pulls his legs free and climbs to his feet, brushing dirt and dust off his jeans as he goes. He looks at his mother. "How come you're awake and the others aren't?"

She purses her lips thoughtfully, an expression he's seen on her face thousands of times. "I wasn't at first," she says slowly, "but I think I was starting to get there over time, might be the longer the ghosts are disturbed the more of ourselves we get back. Might also be that seein’ you helped trigger my memories since that was when they came back for real."

Alejandro yips from his spot at Faraday's side, and bats at his shin with one massive paw. It's obvious he's got something to say, but as good as Faraday is at parsing out what he's getting across when he's in this form, some stuff just doesn't come clear. 

Faraday knuckles him fondly on the top of the head, resolving to ask him what he's thinking once they've weaselled their way out of this latest issue. "S'okay, handsome, you can tell me later."

His paw falling to the ground, Alejandro snorts but other than that says nothing.

On the opposite side of the room, his mother rolls her eyes, but clearly decides not to ask. "We need to get you out of here. I think I can flip the bolt over on the outside if I try hard enough. Have you got a safe house lined up?"

"Please," Faraday scoffs. "What do you take me for? I'm _your_ son, woman. Of course I've got a damn safe house arranged."

Alejandro grunts in disagreement, causing Faraday to roll his eyes. "Fine. _Christine_ took care of the safe house, but I think it's fair to say we've been usin' it."

His mother perks up. "Chris is here?"

"Sort of," Faraday rushes to say before she can get too excited. "She's over at the hospital. She's fine," he adds quickly when her eyes widen in alarm, "but she's got a busted leg she can't do anythin' with thanks to the asshole behind all this crap. She called me in when she realized she could use a hand."

"Chris knows how I'd be likely to feel about her dragging you into somethin' like this," she says with a displeased frown.

Faraday's pretty sure he responds with the exact same face. "She knows even better how I'd be likely to feel about her not, and as far as she figures, right now I'm the only one who's wrath she'd have to worry over."

She makes a kind of touché gesture with her hand, while Alejandro tries and fails to cover up the wolf equivalent of a snicker. Faraday rolls his eyes at the both of them, and points a finger at the heavy door trapping them in here. "All due respect, Ma, but if you really can get that thing open I'd appreciate it if you'd shift yourself."

He can tell it's on the tip of her tongue to say something rude, but she must think better of it because she nods instead. "Right. Gimme a minute and I'll see what I can do."

She exits the room exactly as she'd entered it, and Faraday shudders, feeling somewhat overwhelmed. The only thing grounding him the heavy paw that comes out of nowhere to prod at his leg. "I'm alright," he mumbles without shifting his gaze to make eye contact.

Alejandro snorts.

"I am," Faraday insists. "I mean, sure, this is weird as hell, but if my mother has to be an upright and movin' member of the undead, at least she's one that's helpin' us!"

Any reply Alejandro might make to that - and lord it's lucky he's not human right now because Faraday can only imagine how scathing it might be - gets cut off amidst the sound of the bolt clicking and the door swinging open. "Thank, fuck."

"Josh, stop swearin'. I taught you better than that." Grinning when Faraday scowls at her, his mother waves for them to follow her out of their prison. "I'm kiddin' of course. We both know you learned your best insults from me, but c'mon. We gotta get movin' before somebody sees us."

"Trust me, Ma, you ain't gotta tell me twice." Stepping forward, Faraday stumbles just a little, his bad leg having stiffened up thanks to the couple hours he’d spent sitting on a cold, damp cellar floor.

He catches himself in plenty of time to avoid a fall, doesn't even need to make a grab for where Alejandro's hovering nearby, but his mother doesn't miss it. Her eyes narrow. "You alright? If that bastard roughed you up some before tossin' you in here, he's goin' to get my ghostly foot right up his ass."

"Nah, wasn’t him," Faraday says dismissively. He wriggles the leg tentatively to make sure it's not going to buckle when he's not expecting it. Once he's sure everything is as it should be he strides forward.

He feels the weight of her gaze as he moves, finally caving as he breaches the threshold of the doorway and comes up beside her. Clamping a pre-emptive hand over Alejandro's muzzle to ward of any less than helpful noises from the peanut gallery, he gives her his best sunny smile. "It's possible I may have had a run in with some unsavoury characters a number of months back. There may have been bullets involved."

The look she gives him could drop a horse at twenty paces. "Joshua Elliott Faraday, are you tellin' me you got _shot_?"

Faraday winces. "Maybe?"

Her scandalized look deepens, and she glares at his bad leg as if daring it to give him trouble where she can see it. "You're lucky it was just your damned leg," she says after a moment. Then her glare gets more pointed. "It was just your leg, wasn't it?"

Maintaining his grip on Alejandro with one hand, Faraday very pointedly doesn't touch his chest with the other. "I'm fine, Ma, and we need to get out of here. Enough with the lollygaggin' and lets go." 

For a woman who's purely a spectre and therefore has neither the need nor the ability to breathe, his mother is still impressively good at sighing. Doing so now, she nevertheless follows him as he goes, her footsteps, unlike his heavy boot tread and the clicking of Alejandro's nails on stone, not making a sound.

They don't run into anyone, alive or dead, as they make their way outside and over to the spot Faraday's parked his car. Keying the lock, he hauls the back door open so Alejandro can hop on up, closing it carefully behind him once he makes sure he's not going to catch the were’s tail in the process. Then he looks at his mother.

"Passenger seat's yours if you want it," he tells her. "I've got to drive, and Ale's too big to fit up there comfortably."

Half expecting her to make some crack or other, he's surprised when all she does is slide into the indicated seat without bothering to touch the door in the process. Opening his own door, he climbs into the car and starts it up. "I'd tell you to put your seatbelt on, but there's not really much point."

"Not exactly, no." She smiles, but it looks tired. "What about your furry friend? You're not going to buckle him in?"

No doubt intrigued by her paying attention to him, Alejandro shoves his head between the two front seats, looking at first one person and then the other. Faraday takes a second to scratch lightly under his chin, before shoving him back where he came from. "He's fine as he is."

*****

Vasquez spends the drive to the safe house glancing back and forth between mother and son. There's obviously something unnatural about Eleanor, even if one were to ignore the way the temperature around her drops considerably, the woman glows faintly in the right light. He's always known ghosts were a thing, but he's never met one until now, and having it be his lover's dead mother is disconcerting to say the least.

Which is to say nothing of how Joshua must be feeling. The man's done a remarkable job of keeping himself together so far, but this mess has been taking its toll from the very beginning (a fact that now makes much more sense in light of just _who_ is involved). Vasquez therefore resolves to keep a close eye out for any potential cracks in Joshua's armour.

The house is dark when they get back, and Vasquez waits not so patiently for Joshua to stop the car and then come around to let him out. He could have shifted back at any time if he wanted to, would have if only Joshua was around, but Eleanor's presence makes him self-conscious about the resulting nudity. That's definitely not how he wants to meet this woman in person for the first time.

Turning the key Christine had left him in the lock, Joshua shoves the door open and walks into the house with both Vasquez and Eleanor following after him, or wafting, rather, in the latter's case. 

Joshua flicks a light on quickly, which lets them see where they're going and has the added bonus of making his mother appear more normal from a visual standpoint. He tosses the keys onto the kitchen counter, rubbing his temples as he lets out a hearty sigh.

"Engagin' in some dramatics there, kiddo?" Eleanor asks dryly, and Vasquez feels his hackles rise without permission.

"Ale, don't." Joshua's tired voice cuts him off mid-growl, and their gazes meet. "This ain't the time, darlin'."

Vasquez huffs out a sigh of his own, but backs off as requested. He glances over at where Eleanor is watching him with a knowing smirk hovering at the corners of her mouth and decides that enough is enough. Turning around, he exits the kitchen to go in search of the bedroom where he knows his clothes are stashed.

By the time he's human again and fully clothed, right down to his boots because there's something strangely off putting in being barefoot when he meets this woman for real, a while has passed. Rather than rushing downstairs right away, he finds himself peering in the bathroom mirror, wondering what the hell he's looking for.

"You are being ridiculous," he tells himself finally. "What's the worst she could do to you? She's _dead_."

And yet - he's never really met a significant other's parents before. Certainly never under circumstances like this either. Blowing out a deep breath he nods decisively at his reflection, sternly telling himself to stop hiding.

Joshua and Eleanor are no longer in the kitchen when he returns. The sound of voices leads him along the hall, and he finds them both in the living room that first Christine and now Joshua has been using as a base of operations. Maps of the graveyard and surrounding buildings are still spread out over the coffee table, and he can't be sure but he thinks someone's been marking them up in his absence.

Eleanor is looking away from the doorway when he comes in, her attention focused on the glass shelves lining one wall. She turns around at his arrival, however, raking him up and down critically after he clears his throat to announce his presence and then quirking an eyebrow at him. "The big bad wolf, I presume?"

"Ma!" Joshua protests, and Vasquez can't help but laugh as some of the tension leaves his body.

"At your service, señora," he says, barely resisting the urge to take a teasing bow. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Whereas I've heard absolutely nothin' about you," she replies. "That kind of thing happens when you've been dead for - Christ, I don't even know. Josh, how long have I been dead for?"

"Twelve years," Joshua tells her, his voice brittle. "Can we maybe not talk about that?"

"I don't really see how it can be avoided, but alright." She turns back to Vasquez. "Eleanor Faraday at your service. Call me Ellie."

Vaguely remembering Joshua saying she preferred the nickname, Vasquez nods. "Alejandro."

Ellie grins. "I'd offer to shake your hand, but I'd put the odds of my actually being able to apply any pressure at only about even. I think I used up most of my energy flippin’ the bolt to let you boys out earlier." She glances at her son again. "Where'd you find him, Josh?"

"Picked him up in a bar." He replies, and Vasquez just shrugs in acknowledgment when she looks at him. It's not as if that was a lie.

"Sounds like a romance for the ages to be sure," she determines. "Though I suppose the whole hunter/werewolf thing has a certain Romeo and Juliet quality to it."

"Ma," Joshua says again, though it's more drawn out and exasperated than it'd been before. "Can we maybe focus on the whole mage-raising-the-dead-for-a-potentially-nefarious-purpose thing? Or am I the only one here who remembers that's goin' down?"

"Oh me I'd completely forgotten," Ellie says, snickering when Joshua gives her a scathing look. "Come on, you walked right into that one."

Joshua rolls his eyes, his expression saying 'Can you believe this crap?' as obviously as if he'd said the words aloud. He'd better hope he doesn't actually do so, however, because Vasquez's answer will be 'Yes, and you are absolutely this woman's child'. 

“Alright,” he says instead. Stepping away from Ellie he makes his way over to Joshua’s side. “So what do we do now?”

Nodding at his mother, Joshua casts a sweeping gesture over the research materials cascading over the coffee table. “While you were upstairs I learned some interestin’ details about the Ardmore Cemetery that someone here never thought to tell me about, despite the fact that they apparently had a hand in determinin’ where she wanted to be laid to rest when she died.”

 _Without giving me any warning_. Joshua’s tone adds the words without his needing too, and Vasquez winces. “Guero,” he starts, unsure of how to proceed.

Joshua flaps a hand at him to indicate he knows this isn’t the time to go down this road. “I know, darlin’, I know. My point is this, the Ardmore crypt was used to store certain dangerous items that couldn’t be destroyed, but also needed to be kept somewhere safe. Think of it like a security vault, but for magical crap.”

“The town’s kind of a magical hotspot,” Ellie continues on. “They crop up from time to time because like attracts like and after enough instances of the supernatural winding up in the same spot it becomes a pattern.”

“And the more supernatural occurrences there are in one place, the more items of questionable origin wind up there as well,” Joshua finishes. “Which is a fact I could’ve stood to know long before this. Chris too. She basically walked into a trap because she knew your grave had been disturbed, but not what else might be kickin’ around.”

His mother sighs. “Josh, I _know_ that, but I never pictured somethin’ like this happenin’. Hindsight’s twenty twenty at the best of times. However, it is _especially_ so when you’re dead.”

Joshua’s mouth tightens to the point that Vasquez is mildly concerned he’s going to try and fight his own mother. Wondering if he’ll have to get in between them, he places a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Querido. This probably isn’t the time. What was in the crypt, and what have the ghosts got to do with anything?”

Huffing out a deep breath, Joshua pulls his arm free of Vasquez’s grasp. “We don’t know the answer to either of those questions,” he says flatly.

“That’s not entirely true,” Ellie cuts in. “I have a rough idea of what was in that crypt while I was alive, and it’s unlikely too much has been added to it since. I can try and piece together what I remember to see what might be the most likely thing for McGregor to be after.”

Vasquez wrinkles his nose. “I suppose it’s a place to start,” he says slowly, while beside him Joshua snorts.

“It ain’t much of anythin’,” he grumbles, “but you’re right. It’s all we’ve got for now. Ma, let’s see what you can come up with.”

*****

Somewhat surprisingly, Joshua is the first one to call it a night. Admittedly, Ellie probably doesn't need sleep, but Vasquez had been expecting her offspring to stay up indefinitely out of pure, stubborn force of will. Yet here he is at half past one in the morning, yawning and making noises about going to bed.

"We can't do anythin' else until we know for sure what we're up against, and we can't figure out _that_ if we're runnin' on fumes. Ma, you can keep filterin' through this crap if you like, but I am goin' to bed." He follows this up with a nod at Vasquez. "And so is he."

"I am?" At Joshua's answering glower, Vasquez shrugs. "I suppose I am."

"It's not a bad idea," Ellie says then. "I can keep wrackin’ my brain until we’re all blue in the face, but that’s only goin’ to accomplish so much in the run of an evenin’ and you boys need your beauty sleep. Don't let me stop you from gettin' it."

Vasquez isn't actually tired, but there's a glint in Joshua's eye that makes him think he'll regret it if he voices this thought aloud. Therefore, he merely shrugs again, and follows Joshua out of the room when he goes.

"You're not going to say goodnight to her?" He asks as they make their way upstairs.

Joshua shifts uncomfortably but doesn't turn around. "It's fine," he says tersely. "She'll understand."

"Of course," Vasquez agrees, even though he’s not sure what he’s agreeing to. "You'd know best."

Vasquez had made a point of putting on sleep pants when he'd gotten dressed earlier, so now he merely shrugs out of his t-shirt, kicks off his boots, and climbs under the covers. Joshua, still in his own boots, jacket and everything else he'd gone out in takes a little longer to strip down. Vasquez watches him as he putters around, slowly undressing. Eventually, once he's positive Joshua is stalling, he sighs. "Enough of this, mi amor," he says, patting the spot on the mattress beside him and motioning with his free hand. "Come to bed."

Joshua, now sporting a pair of sleep pants of his own, chews his bottom lip for several seconds that seem to stretch out far longer than they should. Finally coming to a decision, he yanks on a t-shirt that isn't even his, and then shuffles over to where Vasquez is waiting for him.

"That's good," Vasquez decides, patting the spot next to him more firmly. "You come stay with me."

His eyes narrowing, Joshua huffs without moving. "Don't need you to tell me what to do, sweetheart. I can take care of myself."

Vasquez doesn’t doubt for a moment that Joshua's more out of sorts thanks to his mother's reappearance than he's pretending. Giving the bed one final pat, he levels his dearly beloved with his firmest stare. "Joshua, either lie down of your own accord, or I will sit on you until you do. You're the one who said you wanted sleep."

It's as if all the wind immediately goes out of Joshua's sails. Ducking his head, he takes the few remaining steps necessary to reach the bed and proceeds to climb under the covers. Half expecting him to hold himself stiffly, like some kind of inhuman doll, Vasquez is pleasantly surprised when Joshua instead rolls over and curls up against him the moment he's properly in bed.

Hooking an arm around him, Vasquez tucks the other man up against his side, holding him close. He leans down to brush a kiss into Joshua's hair, feeling him shudder at the touch. "Oh cariño," he says sadly, "this is awful for you, isn't it?"

When Joshua still doesn't say anything, Vasquez kisses him a second time and rubs his shoulder soothingly. "Were you expecting to find her like this when we came down here?"

"No," Joshua says dully, the words murmured into Vasquez’s skin like the most important of secrets. "All Chris told me was a bunch of graves had been disturbed, and Ma's was one of 'em."

"No wonder you were in such a rush to get here," Vasquez says thoughtfully. 

"Should've told you everythin' before we got here," Joshua replies, his voice muffled because he's buried his face in Vasquez's chest. "Wasn't fair, me lettin' you walk into this blind."

Surprised to say the least, Vasquez considers this and decides not to make an issue of it. While he would've preferred to know why exactly this job meant so much to Joshua and why it had him so out of sorts, in the end it doesn't really matter. He knows now. "It's alright, guero," he says when Joshua starts twitching minutely, no doubt feeling that the silence has gone on too long. "We're fine, or I am anyway," he amends. "You I'm somewhat concerned about."

"Yeah," Joshua says, his grip on Vasquez tightening imperceptibly. "Shouldn't I be happy to see her again?"

He sounds so lost it makes Vasquez's heart clench. "I think," _that you have a number of unresolved issues with your mother_ , "that the situation is so unnatural you can't help but let it get to you."

Joshua makes an indignant sound. "Hey, I can roll with the punches. I don't give a damn about you bein' human only some of the time, do I?"

Vasquez makes a noise to try and indicate how vehemently he disagrees. "A werewolf boyfriend is a little different from your dead mother being dragged back into some parody of life. The latter is - is a desecration, a violation. Me, I just shed a bit more than normal."

That makes Joshua laugh. It's weak, but it's there, and he smacks Vasquez lightly on the chest. "For the record, darlin', you shed _a lot_ more than normal. I don't even want to think about what the back of my car looks like right now."

"It's nothing a vacuum won't fix, I'm sure." 

"Uh huh," Joshua says. He wriggles around a bit, not really going anywhere, but when he settles with a sigh some of the tension he's carrying seems to go with it. "I love you."

Vasquez tightens his hold. "I know, querido. I love you too."

*****

Faraday wakes up first the next morning, but decides point blank that he's not venturing out of this room without Alejandro at his side. He considers shaking the other man awake, but in the end doesn't because he's got to be tired too. It's better to let at least one of them get as much rest as possible.

When Alejandro finally does stir, it’s with a bit of flailing that causes Faraday to have to duck out of the way. Laughing, he props himself up on one elbow, meeting Alejandro's beleaguered stare easily. "You remember where we are, darlin'?"

"Sí," Alejandro grumps. He's not much of a morning person, and he's probably going to be rubbing sleep out of his eyes for the next while. The massive yawn he lets out isn't unexpected when it comes. "The question is if I have to be awake."

Faraday shrugs. "We can stay in here for a bit longer if you like, but we'll have to get up eventually. And hey," he says brightly, "gettin' up means food. We both know how you feel about that."

Alejandro gives him a stink eye, but advances no further complaints when Faraday moves to get up and drag him along in his wake. Or at least not until they reach the kitchen that is.

"No," he says, stopping Faraday in his tracks when he moves to heat up the stove. "You do not touch anything. I will cook. You and your knack for being distracting will stay out of the way."

Raising his hands in surrender, Faraday has to laugh at the picture Alejandro makes, standing shirtless in the middle of the kitchen with his arms crossed over his chest and his hair sticking up every which way as he glares tiredly in Faraday's direction. He points at the small table in the corner of the room. "Sit."

"You gonna tell me to stay next?" Faraday asks even as he moves to do as instructed. "How about heel?"

"The dog jokes have never been funny," Alejandro replies, but Faraday can see where the corners of his mouth have turned up.

"All my jokes are funny," Faraday mutters. He pulls out one of the chairs and slides into it, angling himself so that he can watch Alejandro putter around, rooting through cupboards and the fridge. "You makin' eggs?"

"Sí, they'll be quickest. Is scrambled okay?"

Faraday nods even though Alejandro's facing away from him. "'Course it is."

Alejandro turns to shoot him a quick smile before going back to what he's doing. For his own part, Faraday tries to sit back and wait patiently, but the same twitchy feeling from earlier creeps up on him again. He finds himself needing to move without thinking about it.

Getting up on his feet, he crosses the kitchen and crowds Alejandro up against the stove, looping his arms around the man's waist and hooking his chin over his shoulder as he cooks. "How's it comin'?"

He lets his teeth graze over Alejandro's throat, nibbling gently, gratified when he feels the other man shudder just a little. 

"Joshua," he says sternly. "Guero, if you wanted this you should have said so _before_ I started cooking. I'm not trading burnt breakfast for sex."

"Who said anythin' about sex?" Faraday asks. "I'm just engagin' in a little neckin'."

Huffing out an exasperated noise, Alejandro stirs the eggs with a spatula he's dug out from somewhere, but still cranes his neck around to let Faraday kiss him. "You are terrible," he scolds, or tries to rather, he’s not exactly convincing when he willingly accepts each kiss Faraday gives him. "Do you want your eggs black?"

"Don't really care, to be honest," Faraday mumbles. He nips at Alejandro's bottom lip in a way that's guaranteed to have him gasp, licking into his mouth as soon as he has the chance. 

Despite his protests, and not to mention the potential fire hazard, Alejandro turns around, his arms coming up and his hands, big and possessive, resting on Faraday's back as they kiss.

Time passes with the two of them as wrapped up in each other as they tend to get, and Faraday feels a sense of satisfaction when his hand skims down Alejandro's side and the man shudders again. He's about to ask if Alejandro likes that, his voice no doubt smug, when he finds himself abruptly pushed back, not far, but enough for the rest of the world to slide back into focus.

Alejandro isn't shivering because of arousal, Faraday realizes belatedly, he's doing it because he's cold, gooseflesh rising all along the bare skin of his arms as he looks at something behind them. The sudden chill in the room sinks past Faraday's lust fogged brain, and groans as he looks over at the kitchen doorway.

His mother, less translucent in the light of day than she had been the night before, quirks an eyebrow at him.

"Ma," Faraday whines, trying without success to hide his face in Alejandro's shoulder. "Do you mind?"

She snorts. "Oh, please. Like I've never caught you gettin' handsy before. Remember that red head in Missouri? He blushed somethin' awful when I walked into the living room that night."

"He wasn't the only one!" Faraday says hotly. He shoves away from Alejandro, swatting at the bastard's flank when he starts snickering. "You knock it off too."

"Sí, sí. Lo siento, guero." Waving a hand lazily, Alejandro focuses back on the eggs still sizzling in the pan. "Good news, I think I can save these."

"I'm not hungry all of a sudden," Faraday grouses, earning himself Alejandro patented 'it is bad to skip meals and I will eyeball you obnoxiously until you don't' glare. "That's the kind of thing that happens when a man's dead mother starts criticizin' his technique."

"I wasn't criticizin'," his mother protests. She waves a hand at Alejandro, as if to encompass the extent of what she’s just walked in on. "Your boy seemed to be enjoyin' himself, so you must've at least been doin' somethin' right."

Faraday's gratified to note that, while his own face is no doubt tomato red at this point, at least the tips of Alejandro's ears have gone pink as well. "Fine," he grumbles, returning to the earlier topic of conversation, "but eggs are no longer enough. Somebody'd better cook me some damn pancakes to make up for all the trauma I'm facin' here."

Not meeting Faraday’s gaze, Alejandro sighs and opens up another cupboard.

*****

"Darlin', what is it?"

His head still cocked to the side, Vasquez waves Joshua quiet as he continues straining to pick up the noise he'd just heard. Gripping the hem of his t-shirt – Ellie’s renewed presence had seen him feeling like he should cover up again - , he hauls it up and off with every intention of shifting. "Someone's coming," he says, starting in on his pants. "They're out front."

Half expecting Ellie to make some kind of comment after he strips - she did produce Joshua after all - he's surprised when she stays quiet. Tossing his clothes out of sight behind the couch, he lets the change take over, and is soon much better able to hear the sound of whoever's outside. It's a woman, both his ears and nose tell him, one who's gait is uneven, and who’s grumbling to herself under her breath as she walks.

A sudden shift in the cold patch to his left tells him Ellie's moving, and when he looks over she's nowhere in sight. He and Joshua are alone in the room - though she can't have gone far, has maybe deliberately only faded the way she had the night before in the crypt.

The front door opens, which since it was locked could be cause for concern, but then an irritated voice rings out. "Josh? You'd better be awake, kid. I barely escaped the damned doctor with my life, and I want some frigging breakfast that didn’t come out of a hospital cafeteria."

A tall, dark skinned woman makes her way into the living room, her uneven steps making sense when Vasquez sees one of her legs is wrapped in a plaster cast, and she's hobbling around on crutches. She doesn't look pleased.

"There you are," she snaps when she spots Joshua. "Have you so much as glanced at your phone today? I messaged ages ago to say I was breaking out and - holy fuck."

Finally spotting Vasquez, the woman - Christine, he assumes - closes her mouth with a snap and gapes at him. Unable to help himself, Vasquez growls and his hackles go up.

"Ale, sit," Joshua snaps, and Vasquez whips his head around to stare at the man incredulously.

Only Joshua's not looking at him. His attention is focused on where Christine is still standing in the doorway. "Jesus, Chris, you shouldn't be on your feet yet. Grab a seat before you fall over."

Christine snorts, but does as suggested. "I've been in worse shape before; this isn't anything to write home about. Why the hell weren't you answering me? I was afraid whatever hit me got you too."

"Sorry," Joshua says contritely. "Last night was kind of insane - Ale, I said _sit_ , and stop growlin' while you're at it, Chris is our friend - you're not goin' to believe what I found."

Safely behind him, Vasquez glares daggers into Joshua's back as he slips forward to help Christine. He settles back on his haunches as requested, although how Joshua intends to pass him off as a regular dog, he hasn't the faintest idea, and resolves to tear the other man from limb to limb if he tells him to heel.

"He's a big fella, isn't he?" Christine murmurs as she settles into the nearest available chair with her attention still on Vasquez. "Where'd you get him?"

"Found him near a dive bar out west about a year ago," Joshua says easily. "He was hungry and looking for scraps, so I bribed him with food, and now I can't get rid of him."

Scratch that, Vasquez decides. Joshua's a dead man no matter what. It's a pity; Vasquez has quite enjoyed having him around.

"Never took you for a dog lover," Christine is saying now, and Vasquez tries not to wince. "Then again, I guess the way your mama dragged you hell, west and crooked all the time would've made that a bit hard to figure out."

"Chris," Joshua moves to cut her off, "speakin' of Ma, I need to tell you somethin'."

Christine's spine goes rigid. "What's that?" She demands harshly. "Josh, tell me that sick bastard hasn't been screwing around with her grave more than I thought because if he has, I will _not_ be held responsible for my actions. I'll feed him his own liver."

A throaty laugh echoes throughout the room, and Ellie slips back into sight. Although she's moved slightly off to the side, no longer directly across from where Christine is sitting. "You always did have a real way with words, Chris. I’ve missed it."

Christine sucks in a breath, and Vasquez is pretty sure he hears her heart skip a beat. "Els?"

Ellie ducks her head and scuffs her foot over the carpet, like she's suddenly turned shy. Vasquez isn't buying it for a second. "I'd say I'm here in the flesh, but, uh, not so much as it happens."

As if to prove her point, she runs her hand over and then through the arm of the closest couch, the solid fabric giving her no trouble whatsoever. 

On her side of the room, Christine swallows. "Well," she says, her voice full of false cheer. "I certainly wasn't expecting anything like this. What the fuck?"

Joshua snorts. "That's pretty much what we're tryin' to figure out. We were just about to sit down to discuss matters again when you showed up, so you may as well just stay where you are."

"Just stay where you are," Christine mimics. Vasquez is pretty sure she's using mockery to cover up how shaken she is. "He says this like it's easy. You raised a right nuisance, Els."

"Tell me somethin' I don't know," Ellie shoots back. "However, in this case he's got a point. I've been wrackin' my brain, goin' over what I know was stored in the vault that our mage friend might've gotten his hands on, and some of it ain't good."

Not liking the sound of this, Vasquez drops down into his stomach, resting his head on his front paws while he waits to hear what Ellie has to say. Both Joshua and Christine's heartbeats have picked up a notch, and the ensuing silence is only broken when the latter's stomach growls.

Ellie chuckles. "You skip breakfast, Chris? That's not like you."

Christine groans, kicking out half-heartedly with her good leg. "I told you, I had to escape the doc's clutches. Breakfast wound up taking second place."

Ellie hums thoughtfully. "Well, there's no reason we can't kill two birds at the same time. Josh, there any of those pancakes you were munchin' on earlier left?" 

"Probably one or two," Joshua admits. "Let me take a look. Ale, you stay," he adds when Vasquez starts to rise to his feet, and Vasquez jerks his head around in affront so fast he thinks he feels his neck crack.

He’s also pretty sure he hears Ellie snickering above him, but he's far too busy glaring balefully after Joshua’s retreating form as he leaves the room to check. Lying back down again once Joshua's gone, he silently resolves to get the man for this as soon as he's able.

*****

"Josh? Is the dog allowed people food?"

Christine's voice drifts into the kitchen where Faraday's once again hiding out, this time because he’s gone in search of a beer for himself. To hell with the fact that it's still morning, he's pretty sure he's entitled.

Then her words actually register, and he chokes on the mouthful he's just knocked back. "Um," he says, ducking his head into the living room so he can see where Christine's holding a forkful of her breakfast aloft, clearly thinking of offering it to Alejandro, who's looking decidedly put out where he's flopped over on the floor.

The were catches Faraday's eye upon noticing him, and Faraday suspects he's going to be in for one hell of a dressing down once everything is over. This is the thanks he gets for playing it cautious with the man's life.

"He can have it if he wants it," he says finally, realizing that he's yet to answer her.  "No promises he'll take it though. He's in a bit of a mood today."

Alejandro's lip curls, and Faraday resolves to stay on the opposite side of the room for the foreseeable future.

He looks around for his mother, only to find her leaning up against the wall closest to him, a sly grin twisting her mouth. "You know you're probably sleepin' on the couch tonight, right?" She asks as he stands next to her, her voice low enough that Christine at least won't pick it up.

"I got that, thanks," he grumbles, not missing the way Alejandro flicks an ear in a deliberate show of agreement. "What's say you offer up a distraction, and tell us what you've found?"

"Right," she agrees, "I suppose I can do that." She makes a show of clearing her throat before raising her voice. "You ready to get movin', Chris?"

Pausing where she's broken off a piece of pancake and is holding it out to Alejandro - who's gone so far as to turn his face away and refuse to look at either her or the offered food - Christine glances up. "You know it," she says sunnily, "and it's not like I'm having any luck getting this guy to like me," she adds, waving the pancake some more. "I think your dog's broken, Josh."

"He doesn't like strangers," Faraday lies, "and he's out of sorts bein' in a new place."

"Should've left him with the boyfriend then," Christine says, finally giving up in her endeavours to catch Alejandro's attention in favour of straightening up in her seat. "Did you hear about that yet, Els? Apparently your offspring's gone and settled down with no one being the wiser."

"I did hear that," Faraday's mother admits. "Saw some, uh, pictures too. Seems like a nice fella."

Alejandro snorts at this, and Faraday cuts in with a sudden desperate need to head this topic off at the pass. "Uh, guys? The mage? Remember him?"

"Yeah," his mother says. "Good point. Let's get back on track and focus on the important things. I think McGregor's after an amplifier." 

"Come again?" Christine asks around a mouthful of pancakes. It seems she's decided to enjoy them herself since Alejandro's proven so reluctant to take her up on her offer. "What do you mean by that?"

His mother shrugs. "There's a whole bunch of nasty shit sealed away in the Ardmore - most of 'em covered in their own protection spells to keep folks from accessin' them - but the bulk of what's in there wouldn't interest a mage who can already manipulate magic. It's all - all curses and things. A drink that can make someone tell the truth here, a locket that forms a protective shield there. You know, the kind of stuff a mage could make alone without havin' to go through so much trouble."

"Except the amplifier?" Faraday asks.

She makes a face. "I can't say one hundred percent for certain. There're a few other things in there, and who knows what's been added since I kicked it, but it makes the most sense."

"Plus," she continues on before he can say anything, "it's covered in some damned heavy protection spells, which could explain the ghosts. McGregor's magic is naturally geared towards necromancy, I can promise you that, and he feeds off the energy of the spirits he wakes. Drawin' on all of us could've made him strong enough to push through the shielding on the amplifier."

"And then once he's done that he won't need to rely on that kind of crutch anymore," Christine says, following the train of thought to its obvious conclusion. "He can still call up whoever he wants, but he won't _need_ to. Fuck."

"Pretty much," his mother says grimly. "We need to stop him. We need to get the amplifier back, take it from him, and then take him out."

"How?" Faraday demands. There's a prickling sensation crawling up the length of his spine that tells him one) she's already come up with an idea and two) he's not going to like it.

It doesn't take long for his suspicions to be confirmed. "We use me to draw him out," she says, no longer meeting the eye of anyone in the room, not even Alejandro, who's resting not far from her feet. "We're all connected to him - we here meanin' the ghosts - so it's only a matter of time before he comes lookin' for me. As soon as he shows, we take him down."

"Oh we do, do we?" Faraday asks sarcastically. He can't believe what he's hearing. "We being me, a temporarily crippled hunter - no offence, Chris - and a ghost the bad guy may or may not be able to control even after you woke up fully. Yeah, that's the dream team right there."

A low growl sounds out from the depths of the floor, and as one the three humans in the room turn to stare at Alejandro. He smacks his tail twice against the living room carpet, managing to look supremely annoyed at having been left out of the equation even with his canine features.

Christine laughs. "Poor pup doesn't want to be forgotten about. I bet he could do some damage to our mage friend if he put his mind to it."

Faraday remembers what happened the last time Alejandro and McGregor had come face to face, and has to stop himself from sitting down on the floor for the express purpose of bundling the were up in his arms protectively. If he never sees Alejandro writhing on the ground whimpering in pain like that again it'll be too soon.

"Whatever," he says finally, forcing the images away to become nightmare fuel at a later time. He crosses his arms and turns to his mother. "Do you even know how to convince McGregor to come to you?"

The look she gives him makes his stomach clench.

*****

"Stupid stupid, this is so fucking stupid!" Safely ensconced in the room they've been sharing the past couple nights, Joshua digs through his gear bag for all the items he wants, not once pausing in his litany of ways everything about the upcoming plan is going to go wrong.

Vasquez watches the proceedings from where he's perched at the end of the bed, his head and front paws dangling over the side as Joshua gets increasingly agitated. Huffing out a sigh that earns him no response from his partner, Vasquez decides enough is enough and starts sliding back into human shape.

As soon as he can, he folds his legs underneath him so that he's sitting cross legged, clearing his throat to again try and get Joshua's attention. It works this time, and already worried green eyes widen in alarm as Joshua pulls himself free of his duffle bag and gapes at Vasquez. 

Joshua stares at him dumbly for a moment before crossing to the bedroom door in three brisk strides and all but slamming it shut. "What are doing?" He hisses, voice deliberately pitched low so as not to be picked up by either of the women located elsewhere in the house. "You idiot, change back before somebody sees you!"

Vasquez scratches absently at an itch behind one of his knees. "Your mother already knows what I am, guero," he points out reasonably, "and if you trust this Christine as much as you say, it shouldn't be a problem what shape I'm in. I don't like playing games like this."

"I know. I know, and I'm sorry, but can you please just do this for me a little longer?" Already stressed, regret is now colouring Joshua's tone, and his fingers are spasming like he doesn't know what do with them. "Please, I'll beg if I have to. Just change _back_."

He sounds so desperate Vasquez's stomach lurches guiltily. While he may not like this charade one bit, Joshua has enough on his plate for now without him adding to it. Still, he’s not quite ready to shift. He crooks a finger as Joshua. “Come here first.”

Huffing in exasperation, Joshua strides over to him, and then grunts when Vasquez drags him further forward once he’s in reach. “It’s going to be alright, querido,” Vasquez murmurs into his hair, “but you need to calm down. You’re starting to worry me.”

Joshua momentarily sags against him. “Sorry,” he says tiredly. “It’s just – with everythin’ that’s been happenin’ - and,” he pulls back far enough to look Vasquez in the eye, “and it’d be one less thing to worry about if you’d just stay the other shape for now. Just until this mess is over and done with.”

Dipping his chin in a silent acknowledgment/apology, Vasquez says nothing and does as requested.

"Thank you," Joshua says fervently. His relief practically palpable, he bends down to run his hands through Vasquez's fur, digging in in all the places he likes best. "Thank you thank you thank you." 

Punctuating each thanks with a kiss to the top of Vasquez's head, he breathes out a great heaving sigh in an obvious bid to get himself under control. "I'll make it up to you, I promise. Just as soon as we're out of this mess I'll grovel as much as you like, I swear." 

Not liking where Joshua’s mind seems to be going, Vasquez noses at the other man's cheek in an attempt to tell him that won't be necessary. He's made his point that he doesn't like playing this game; there's no need to take it further.

Joshua shudders, but when he meets Vasquez's eye there's the beginnings of a fond smile lurking in the corner of his mouth. Weak, but real nevertheless. "It's only for a little while," he promises. "And you're right. I do trust Chris. It's just - there's so much."

He doesn't add what exactly it is that's 'so much', but nor does he need to. Vasquez wags his tail in a show of support, pleased when the motion eases some of the tension in Joshua's shoulders, however minutely.

"Okay," Joshua says then, his heart rate slowing a bit as he calms. "Now all I have to worry about is my mother's crazy plan to use herself as bait to catch this guy. Provided we can hold him that is."

Never having met a mage before, Vasquez had had little to no idea how one was expected to stop such a person. It turned out that most of them had a notable weakness wherein they needed either their voice or hands or both to cast spells, meaning the best way to stop McGregor was to somehow render him immobile and then gag him for added measure.

"Sneak attack," Ellie had said down in the living room. "I draw him in and keep him distracted so that you and Chris can take him out while he's not expecting it. Ale, can help too, of course," she'd added slyly, and it'd taken all of Vasquez's considerable willpower not to roll his eyes.

"It's stupid," Joshua says now. "Idiotic. _Insane_. Who knows what this fucker will do to her? Who knows what he even _can_ do to her? Not me, and I sure as shit don't want to find out."

He's tensing up again, so Vasquez stands, precarious though his position at the edge of the bed may be, and paws at him with an extended foreleg, not stopping the motion until Joshua's focused on him. _It'll be alright_ , he tries to communicate through touch alone, the only sound he can manage a small snuffling noise as he bumps his muzzle against Joshua's cheek. 

Joshua groans, bringing one hand up to scratch at Vasquez's ears. "Thanks, handsome. Don't know what I'd do if you weren't here."

Since that's not something he likes to think about either, Vasquez stays quiet and lets Joshua get back to work.

*****

"This is a stupid fucking idea."

Faraday looks up from where he's been trying to distract himself by tracing nonsensical patterns into Alejandro's fur, and turns his head until he can spot Christine. Given that it's after sundown and they're all sitting here with the lights off, he can barely see her in the dim light spilling in through the nearby window. "What was that?"

He hears her snort in the darkness. "I said this is fucking stupid. You know full well you're going to have to do all the work tonight with me in such a useless state. We're taking too big a risk."

"Maybe," he starts, and then rethinks this. "Okay, definitely, but I'm used to working alone. That's almost always how I do things, so it could be worse."

He feels more than he sees it as Alejandro's teeth close over his wrist, the pressure just enough to remind him that, as it happens, he's far from alone on this one. It might be that he'd rather the were was safely out of this fight, but Faraday hadn't been joking earlier when he said he was happy to have him around.

Pulling his hand free, he uses it to ruffle the were's ears, laughing softly when Alejandro lets out a happy rumble. "You're an easy sort to please, darlin'."

Christine huffs out something that might be considered a laugh in different circumstances. "For all he doesn't seem to like people much, that big brute sure is taken with you, kid."

Faraday thinks about denying this, only to decide against it in the end. Christine didn't have as much experience dealing with werefolk as he and his mother did, but she knew enough to normally have caught on by now. He suspects the only reason she hasn't is the stress and distraction of having her best friend semi-resurrected practically in front of her. As soon as that wears off they'll likely have more issues to deal with.

Shifting slightly where he's sitting with his back against the wall, Faraday takes a deep breath to compose himself. He, Christine, and Alejandro are biding their time in the living room off the main entranceway, while his mother waits further in the house in the unused dining room, the idea being that she'll call to McGregor - however the hell she's going to do so - and as he moves to find her the rest will close in behind him.

"The good thing about his having used ghosts is we need to draw energy in order to physically manifest," his mother had said as she'd laid out her plan. "However, we don't have a lot of that to spare. Springin' Josh from the lockbox he was in last night was almost too much for me, and I haven't been able to touch anything since, which means there's a limit on what the others can do if McGregor brings them with him."

"All it takes is one moment to pull the trigger on a gun," Christine had muttered ominously, and Faraday wished he didn't agree with her as much as he did. They were outnumbered as hell and they all knew it.

Still, needs must and all that jazz. Somebody has to stand up to this guy, and right now they're the only ones around to do it.

"God, I hate waiting," Christine mutters from her place on the other side of the room. "I swear, sometimes I think it’s the worst part."

"Same," Faraday agrees. "I've never had much in the line of patience, and a job like this is even worse than normal. I can't believe we're going along with this."

"I'd say as much too, kid, if it weren't for the fact that it's your mother we're talking about." There's a note in Christine's voice that suggests she's grinning. "That woman has dragged me into more foolish, cockamamie schemes than I care to admit. Granted, she's always dragged me out of them afterwards, which I suppose counts for something. She's got the devil's own luck, your mama does."

"Funny," Faraday says as a memory from just after he'd woken up in a hospital bed stirs, "someone told me the same thing about a year ago. You remember that, big guy?" He asks Alejandro. "You were there."

Alejandro grunts, likely disapproving of being reminded of how touch and go things had been for a while. He shoves at Faraday's bad leg with one paw, large blunt nails resting just above where the bullet had sunk in, the movement clearly meant to be a sign of reproach.

Faraday pats his side in a silent apology, wondering whether he should tell Christine the full story. He's thinking about giving her at least some details when Alejandro shoots up unexpectedly, rolling over until he can get his feet underneath him and stand. His fur's up too, and Faraday suspects he'd be growling if it wouldn't risk giving their position away.

"Josh?" Christine asks softly. "What is it?"

"Not sure, but I think the big fella just heard somethin’. Easy, Ale," he adds gently, scratching lightly at the were's chin. "S'alright."

Ignoring him, Alejandro shuffles forward a few steps, flinching back shortly after when the front door clicks and slowly eases its way open. The same pale blue light that had illuminated the crypt drifts into the hallway, and all three of them make a point to stay away from the doorway as two of McGregor’s ghosts drift past, followed quickly by the man himself and another three of their fellows.

Faraday can see Christine’s face in the light given off by the ghosts as they wander by, and he finds himself oddly relieved to note that the more experienced hunter looks as unsettled as he feels. Even though he knows the ghosts are the lesser danger, they make him more uncomfortable than McGregor does. The same too appears to be said of Alejandro, whose back is hunched, fur sticking up every which way as he keeps his gaze trained down the expanse of the hallway.

Reaching up without thinking about it, Faraday runs a soothing hand along the were’s spine, willing him to calm down before he starts growling and gives their position away. Luckily, Alejandro seems to get with the program because he uncurls out of the half crouch he’s contorted himself into and settles into a more relaxed stance. He also bumps his muzzles briefly against the side of Faraday’s face, as if to say he’s good now.

For his part, Faraday climbs carefully to his feet, while he reaches one-handed for the gun he has holstered at his hip. On the other side of the room, he notices Christine doing the same thing. “You remember the deal, right?” He asks lowly, watching her carefully. “You stay where you can prop yourself up and cover me, but that’s it. If this turns into a hand to hand brawl …”

“I’ll only get in the way,” she finishes. “I’m not stupid, kid. Unlike this plan. Get moving.”

Steeling himself, Faraday pokes his head out into the hallway to check if the coast is clear. As soon as he’s sure that it is, he starts moving, gun in hand and his pace so slow it’s practically glacial. He only comes to a stop once he reaches the dining room entrance way, taking care the whole time to keep out of sight.

As intended, his mother is inside the room. She’s standing near the back with her arms crossed over her chest, looking remarkably calm for a woman who has five other ghosts circling menacingly around her while McGregor watches coolly from the sidelines.

“I don’t know what you thought you were doing,” the mage is saying. He doesn’t exactly sound upset, but there’s a note in his voice that sets Faraday’s teeth on edge, putting him in mind of someone who could snap at any moment, going from mild mannered on the one hand and then to dangerous and destructive on the other. Squaring his shoulders, Faraday tells himself to listen carefully and wait for the right time to strike.

“What’s so special about this house?” McGregor asks now. “You could have gone anywhere. Why come here?”

His mother shrugs, totally nonchalant. "I take it you didn't do much research on us before you started wakin' people up, did you?" She grins and uncrosses her arms so she can shake an admonishing finger in McGregor's direction. "This used to be my home, pal. I see no reason why I shouldn't be allowed to come back to it."

Faraday's impressed at how easily she lets that lie spill off her tongue. If he didn't know full well neither of them had ever set foot in the safe house until recently, he'd think she'd lived here while still alive. Based on his expression, it seems that McGregor believes the fib as well.

Sighing, the mage straightens up to his full height, and nods at two of the ghosts flanking Faraday's mother. "I suppose," he starts slowly, "that I can understand your urge to go home, though why you're awake enough to tell you even had a home to go back to I don't know and will be looking into further, but this can't be allowed to continue. Letting you run around where someone might see you would be too stupid for words, and I'm sure whoever's living here now is bound to notice your presence. With that in mind I'm going to have to ask you to come along."

His mother cocks her head to the side, her eyes narrowing dangerously. For the first time since Faraday had first laid eyes on her in the Ardmore crypt, there's a sinister air to her that reminds him she's no longer of this world. While previously he'd been sort of able to put that out of his mind, now she no longer feels human.

"I am not goin' with you," she tells McGregor flatly. Each word comes out completely firm, without so much as an inch of give in it. "I want no part in whatever it is you have planned."

McGregor makes an exasperated noise, but makes no move towards her, choosing instead to snap his fingers and get the remaining ghosts' attention. When all five heads turn to look at him, he nods once. "Get her."

It belatedly occurs to Faraday that while they knew the ghosts couldn't hurt anything living without seriously draining their energy reserves, they hadn't thought to consider what the spectres might be able to do to one of their own kind. His mother's head snaps back as the ghost closest to her throws a punch, and the next thing he knows she's embroiled in a fight at five to one odds. She'd been a hell of a brawler while she was alive, but those were poor chances no matter who was involved.

Knowing he has to act fast, Faraday raises his gun and aims it squarely at McGregor. He doesn't hesitate to pull the trigger, and swears when the bullet ricochets harmlessly off, the only sign it had gotten close a sharp blue spike of McGregor's magic over the spot it would have struck had it connected. It appears their mage friend has come prepared with more than one form of protection.

"You again!" McGregor barks, whirling around to glare at Faraday. "I should've known. Of course my missing ghost would be the one to set free the damned hunter who came calling."

He raises his hands, sparks dancing across his fingertips in obvious anticipation, only to jerk back when several more shots ring out. They do as much damage as Faraday's own had, but at least serve to make him rock back on his feet, stopping his magic for the time being.

"And there's the other one heard from," McGregor hisses as Christine stumps into view and leans against the wall to support herself. He glares at Faraday. "I knew you were lying to me when I found you in that pit. I'm going to make you both regret getting involved in this."

He snaps his fingers and two of the ghosts, both of them men, pull away from the melee in the corner of the room, peeling around and stumbling towards the two living hunters. "There's not much this lot can do to you, but what they can do is quite nasty. Lucky for me it's not like you can hurt me. My little spell here protects against specifically man made weapons."

His words dimly register in Faraday's ears as first one and then the other ghost slams into him. It looks like they're focusing on him as the greater threat and ignoring Christine for the moment. Unfortunately, shooting them has no effect whatsoever. The ghosts briefly dissipate when the bullets hit them, but pop right back into place mere seconds later while Faraday struggles to bite back a scream as their freezing cold forms pass through him.

It's the most deeply unsettling thing he's ever felt, up to and including lying in a river of his own blood while his life force flowed out of the five bullet holes he'd been inflicted with during the fight. He yells again as one of the ghosts comes back for round two, shoving an ethereal hand directly into his chest cavity, and then the only thing anyone can hear is a blood curdling howl as Alejandro tears into the fray.

All five of McGregor's ghosts pause as the snarling blur of teeth and claws appears in their midst, almost as if something in their hind brains from when they were alive is telling them to flee from the apex predator bearing down on them, and even McGregor himself startles.

Faraday sees the mage flinch, and his earlier words about the protection spell come roaring back with a vengeance. Temporarily free of the ghosts, he drops to one knee and takes aim at McGregor again, grabbing for Alejandro with his free hand at the same time. "The spell he has on himself won't work on you! I'll distract him, you take him down!"

"Make sure he can't use his hands!" He adds, trusting Alejandro to hear him in the confusion as he fires at McGregor again.

The bullets have no more effect now than they did before, but they serve their purpose and cause McGregor to focus on him as opposed to the snarling whirlwind Alejandro has become. Out of the corner of his eye, Faraday sees the werewolf spin, his claws gouging deep into the wood of the dining room floor as he charges towards McGregor.

His attention caught on the guns Faraday and now Christine have levelled at him, not to mention the battle still going on between all the ghosts, McGregor doesn't have enough time to compensate for this third distraction. Mage and wolf go down in a tangle of limbs as Alejandro slams into him, McGregor's hands coming up in a desperate bid to force gleaming fangs away from his face as they roll across the floor.

"His hands, watch his hands, and don't let him say anything!" Faraday suspects if he had the time available, Alejandro'd be rolling his eyes at this back seat driving, but luckily he does as suggested and scrambles around until he can slam McGregor face first into the floor, pinning the man's arms beneath heavy paws as he brings his teeth centimeters away from his jugular.

"Call the ghosts off," Faraday snaps when he sees this. "He's ripped throats out before, and I really fuckin' doubt you're fast enough to get him before he gets you, not with how close together you are."

With the side of his face pressed into the floor, McGregor swallows heavily and gives a minute twitch of his fingers that sees all five of the ghosts he'd brought with him vanish. Then he exhales, opens his mouth sharply, but immediately breaks off whatever he was about to try when Alejandro growls menacingly and pushes down on the back of his head with a front paw, claws out and obvious.

"Yeah, I wouldn't if I was you." Panting harshly, Faraday glances around the room, taking stock of the state of their crew. His mother appears fine, with not a hair out of place after her skirmish with the other ghosts, but Christine is sagging tiredly against the wall, barely able to remain upright.

"We need to get that one tied and gagged before we do anything else," his mother says when she catches his eye. "The last thing we need is him gettin’ free and startin’ that fight all over again."

“Agreed,” Faraday takes the merest fraction of a second to compose himself, shifting afterwards to holster his gun. “The rope and stuff is in the livin’ room, I’ll grab it. Chris, Ale’s fast enough you likely won’t have to do anythin’ with him pinned down as he is, but keep your gun on our friend here just to be safe.”

“Teach granny to suck eggs, kid,” Christine snaps, but she nevertheless cocks the trigger of her gun and trains it on McGregor.

“I’ll get right on that,” Faraday grunts. He locks gazes with Alejandro as he goes to leave. “If he so much as twitches, give him the McCann treatment.”

Alejandro bares his teeth in an approximation of a feral smile, and McGregor shudders under him. Good. If the bastard’s scared enough he’ll hopefully behave now that they’ve got him down.

Not wanting to leave the others alone for any longer than he has to – even with McGregor somewhat down, they’re not out of the woods yet – Faraday’s quick to grab what he needs out of the living room and hastily makes his way back to them. Much to his dismay, he notices that Christine finally seems to have put two and two together where his partner is concerned. She’s gazing fixedly down at Alejandro, but turns to Faraday as he enters.

“What’s the McCann treatment?” She asks.

Faraday blinks, at first not having any clue of what she’s talking about. Then he remembers his last words as he’d left the room. “The late James McCann was a right bastard who shot me about a year ago, an act he had very little time to regret before Ale tore his throat open because he’s overprotective like that.”

Somehow, Alejandro manages to make an ‘aw shucks’ gesture while fully wolfed out and literally parked on top of a mage with a penchant for necromancy. 

Her eyes wide, Christine leans heavily on the wall as she takes in the sight in front of her. She sighs heavily. "That's no ordinary dog, is it?"

Coming to rest next to her, his mother grins. "Nope. That's my son in law."

Almost against his will, Faraday pinches the bridge of his nose. "Ma!" Doing his best to ignore her, he shuffles forward and begins trussing McGregor up as best as he’s able, figuring he can at least get that issue out of the way while this new one carries on without him.

His mother snorts, completely unrepentant while Alejandro, still perched atop the source of all this trouble, wags his tail lazily. "Go ahead and tell me I'm wrong then. Fair warnin' though, I can read you like a book, child of mine, especially when you're lyin'."

As Faraday tries and fails to come up with a response to this, Christine stomps around so she can level him with a flat stare of her own. "Forgive me for saying so, Josh, but I distinctly remember you telling me you'd found yourself a fella who knew nothing about what we do." She points a finger accusingly at Alejandro. "That is a goddamned _werewolf_! It's hard to get more supernatural than the likes of him."

That makes Faraday tense, his earlier worries about his mother's lack of tact forgotten in the face of a potentially far graver problem. "Ale's not a threat to anyone who doesn't deserve it, Chris, and if you've got a problem with him than you've got a problem with me."

"If I've - " She sputters, giving Faraday the sudden impression that if she weren't so banged up she'd be doing her best to dish him out a right hiding just about now. "I don't give a shit who - or what - you're fucking, kid. It's you lying to my face I've got a problem with. What'd you figure - that I'd haul off and shoot him just because he probably bites more than the average person?"

"I reckon he was likely a bit worried about the possibility, yeah." When both Faraday and Christine turn to stare at her, his mother shrugs. "Be fair, Chris, huntin' things that live in the shadows is kind of what we do, and sometimes it's act first, ask questions later. You know that as well as I do."

She holds the other woman's gaze until Christine tosses her head and sighs. "Okay, fine," she grumbles, "maybe I'd've been a bit concerned to hear news like that, but some warning still would've been nice, and what the fuck’s all this crap about you getting shot?" She glares over at Faraday. "How many times have I told you to call me when shit's going down?"

Doing his best not to wilt under her expression, Faraday fists his hands in his pockets. "I call you when I need you."

"Bullshit, guero," a new voice speaks up. "You like to pretend you never need anyone."

As one the three hunters zero in on where Alejandro, now fully human, is still sitting on the defeated mage, looking supremely annoyed. "However, that's a discussion for another time." He smacks a heavy hand down on McGregor's back when he tries to move. "What are we doing about this?"

"We're not doin' anythin' about him," Faraday says weakly. He gestures at himself, his mother and Christine. "The three of us will handle him. You just - find some pants."

Alejandro rolls his eyes.

*****

As requested, Vasquez does find some clothes to shrug into, but he refuses to be left out of the loop once this is achieved. All three hunters, both living and dead, are clustered in the living room when he returns, while McGregor has been stashed in a corner, gagged and with his hands and feet tied. 

Joshua's the first to spot him when he comes in. "Hey, darlin'," he says tiredly, pulling away from what appears to be a rather fraught discussion. "Did you get all cleaned up?"

"I didn't realize I was particularly dirty, guero." Coming to rest beside him, Vasquez bumps the other man lightly with his shoulder. "What have you decided on?"

Joshua sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "The good news is Ma was right about what our friend there was after in the crypt. We took the amplifier off him while you were upstairs, and that’s one problem over and done with. The bad news is, the ghosts were woken up by a spell that has nothing to do with that shit, so taking it off him wasn’t enough to let them rest.”

Vasquez can't help but notice the way he pointedly doesn't look at Ellie as he says this. However, he resolves to keep his mouth shut. Instead, he asks, "So what do we do?"

"We go back to the cemetery," Christine says grimly. "Or at least you lot do," she adds, glaring at her injured leg. "I won't be any help in that."

"The cemetery is where this all started," Ellie explains before Vasquez can point out that no one's really answered his question yet. "It's where the ghosts were all brought back. We're all likely to be as tied to that spot as we were to him. We're going to bring McGregor back there and make him set them - us, I suppose - free."

"How?" Vasquez asks. Call him crazy, but McGregor doesn't look like he's in much of a mood to cooperate. 

"Persuasively," Joshua growls. The way he pats the gun on his hip is maybe a little unnecessary, but it gets the point across. 

*****

Unsurprisingly, Vasquez doesn’t like the Ardmore Cemetery anymore the second time around than he had the first. Even with McGregor incapacitated, it still feels wrong to him, and makes him wish he was quite literally anywhere else as they pass through the gates.

“You alright?” Ellie asks. She’s hanging back with him, the both of them watching as Joshua carefully steers McGregor towards the crypt, making sure the mage doesn’t try anything funny. “You keep twisting around like you’re expectin’ an attack,” she adds when Vasquez raises an eyebrow at her.

 

He shrugs. “This place feels wrong,” he says. It’s a weak explanation, but it’s the best he can come up with. “It’s as if I can tell something terrible was done here. Something unnatural.”

Ellie gives him a knowing look. “Like recognizes like,” she says reassuringly. “You’re probably more sensitive to what’s happened here because of what you are.”

“Maybe,” Vasquez says. He supposes it’s as good an explanation as any. He cocks his head to the side, pinning her with a look as they keep walking. “It really doesn’t bother you?” He asks, pitching his voice low to try and prevent Joshua from overhearing. “Me being what I am?”

She fixes him with a disbelieving stare. “Did you or did you not kill a man because he attacked my son? And were you not willin’ to do the same thing again tonight?” At Vasquez’s nod, she continues on. “Then I don’t know why you’re botherin’ to ask me that question, especially not after I’ve seen how Josh looks at you. That alone is enough for me.”

Pretty sure his face is heating and glad the darkness serves to hide it, Vasquez ducks his head at her words. “Gracias, senora,” he murmurs. “He’s – it’s the same for me too.”

“Yeah,” she drawls, leaning forward to bump her shoulder against his even though all this does is make him shiver as part of her arm brushes through his bicep, “I kind of figured.”

“Are you two comin’ or not?” Turning, Vasquez looks up to see that Joshua’s now several metres ahead of them, almost at the door to the crypt, dragging McGregor along behind him. “I’d like to get this dealt with tonight if we could.”

“He always did get grumpy when he was stressed,” Ellie murmurs, and Vasquez doesn’t bother telling her this isn’t news to him.

“I should change,” he says instead. “I’m more useful in the other shape.”

She says nothing, merely raises an eyebrow at him for a moment, and he chooses to take this as agreement. He’d purposefully thrown on only a pair of pants prior to leaving the house because he’d figured it’d come to this, so it’s the work of a moment to climb out of them and let the wolf out.

“How often does he lose clothes doin’ this?” Ellie asks, and Joshua snorts as they draw nearer.

“Not as much as you’d think, but still more than I’d like,” he says, and Vasquez has to admit he has a point. He’s lost clothing to nights akin to this on more than one occasion.

McGregor stumbles when Joshua first drags him into the crypt, and he makes a displeased noise when Joshua continues to move him forward.

“None of that,” Joshua growls when the mage tries to stop moving. “You’re goin’ to show us where you raised all these poor folks up, whether you want to or not.”

McGregor grunts in annoyance, and plants his feet firmly in an attempt to keep Joshua from forcing him onwards, and Joshua sighs in exasperation. “How the hell are we goin’ to make him show us what we want if he’s in a mood to be difficult?”

Vasquez doesn’t answer, and when Ellie does her voice is flat. “I don’t know, why don’t you ask this little one here?”

As one, Vasquez, Joshua and McGregor turn to look at where she’s pointing. Standing at the head of the stairs that lead down into the basement is a little girl who can’t be any more than five, and who won’t be getting any older if the ethereal glow surrounding her is any indication. She doesn’t say anything as they all openly gape at her, but as soon as she sees she has all of their attentions, she twists around and begins walking down the stairs.

“She’s the youngest of the ones he woke,” Ellie says hollowly. “I’ve seen her before this, but she never says anything and I’ve no idea what her name is.”

“You think it’s safe to follow her?’ Joshua asks.

“I think we’ve got no other leads, and out friend the mage here doesn’t feel inclined to do anything helpful.” She replies. “It’s worth a shot.”

Joshua nods, and as one they all head after the girl, although McGregor’s a struggle to get moving. She’s waiting for them at the foot of the stairs, and only moves again when they’re all at the bottom – at which point she heads for a room Vasquez and Joshua hadn’t been in the last time they’d been in this hallway.

It puts Vasquez in mind of a workshop when they enter it. He can see a work table stashed in the corner of the room, laden down with a number of different items, and there are a bunch of smells he can’t place circulating throughout the air. His attention, however, is drawn to the symbol that’s been scrawled into the centre of the floor. He has no idea what all the swoops and curls mean, but he’s willing to bet serious money that this is what they’re looking for.

“Well, this looks … fun,” Ellie says somberly.

Intrigued, Vasquez trots forward to tentatively sniff at the marks adorning the floor, and then immediately wishes he hadn't. Rearing back to get away from the stench now clogging his nostrils, he sneezes without meaning to and ducks behind Joshua's legs before he can think twice, only leaning around to glare at the source of the offending odour.

"Whoa," Joshua says. Stumbling slightly, he steadies himself with a hand on Vasquez's back. "I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess the occult doesn't smell too good."

Still trying to unclog his sinuses, Vasquez grunts his agreement. Whatever ingredients McGregor has used to mix his concoction he can't tell since it's all so jumbled together, but the end result is distinctly unpleasant. 

Joshua's fingers trail briefly through the fur of Vasquez's nape, a fleeting offer of comfort before he pulls back to take a closer look at the symbols on the floor. For his part, Vasquez stays where he is because he doesn't want to get any nearer.

"So," he asks conversationally. "What d'you guys reckon breakin' this mess up will do?"

The little girl who'd lead them down here doesn't say anything, but her expression shifts just enough that Vasquez thinks she's been waiting for this suggestion. Lending credence to this theory is the fact that McGregor's eyes go wide, and he starts straining to say something through the gag, shaking his head furiously at the same time.

"I dunno," Ellie drawls from her place on the opposite side of the symbol, "but based on that reaction, I think we might want to find out. The question is how? I’m not exactly packin’ industrial strength cleaner on me these days.”

“Not sure that’d do any good anyway,” Joshua murmurs. He tentatively scuffs at the markings with the tip of his boot to see what’ll happen. Nothing negative occurs, but nor does the scuffing have any effect on the state of things. He turns to Vasquez. “You want to try, darlin’?”

Hoping he’s not about to be asked to do something disgusting, Vasquez shuffles forward, extending the claws on his right front paw when Joshua indicates as much. Scraping them along the stone does nothing to the symbol except give him a kind of fingernails on the chalkboard feeling that can at best be described as unpleasant. He looks up at Joshua, who sighs.

“Anybody else have an idea?” He asks the room at large.

Ellie shrugs while McGregor keeps motioning that he wants them to stop, but the little girl drifts over to the spot McGregor must have used as a work station when he’d first been down here. It largely consists of a table covered in papers and containers, and as they watch, she points a finger at a sealed canister resting at the far end of all the mess, jabbing more insistently when no one moves forward to see what she’s doing.

“I’m goin’ to go out on limb and guess she wants us to look in there,” Joshua says quietly.

“You think?” He mother shoots back.

Since he’s the best one for it, Joshua steps over to the work bench as Vasquez draws near McGregor to keep him from doing anything he shouldn’t. The mage gives him a wide eyed stare as he approaches, but Vasquez gets the impression it’s not him he’s afraid of this time, but whatever the girl is proposing they do to his work.

Joshua picks the canister up off the table, twisting the lid first one way and then the other before he gets it to move. He takes a moment to peer inside it once he’s got the top off; carrying it back to the centre of the room once he’s done. “I know you’re not goin’ to appreciate this,” he says, holding the item out to Vasquez, “but you’ve got the best nose by a mile.”

Realizing what he wants after a second or two slips by, Vasquez grumbles but nevertheless leans forward to take a sniff. He ducks away almost as quickly because he can’t help himself, gagging a bit at the smell.

“Sorry,” Joshua tells him apologetically. “Is it the same stuff as what’s already on the floor?”

His sinuses rebelling as he does so – he’s pretty sure his eyes are watering – Vasquez nods. It’s stronger, probably because it’s fresh and sealed inside the container, unlike what’s already been put down that’s had time to dry and air out, but it’s definitely the same substance.

“Are you thinkin’ of slappin’ some of that stuff down on top of what’s already in place, Josh?” Ellie asks. “Maybe the only thing that can disrupt the pattern is the original material that made it.”

“That’s kind of what I’m figurin’, yeah,” Joshua says. He looks down at the container in his hands again, suddenly tentative. “We don’t – we don’t know what it’ll do to you if we turn this off,” he says hesitantly, biting his lip and refusing to meet his mother’s eye. “It probably won’t be anythin’ good.”

“Probably not, no,” Ellie agrees, her voice the gentlest Vasquez has heard it in the short time he’s known her, “but you know as well as I do that me bein’ back here isn’t natural. Folks don’t come back from the dead, Josh. I did my time, and now I’m supposed to be restin’.”

“Should’ve had more time,” Joshua mutters, low enough that Vasquez bets he’s the only one to hear him.

Vasquez moves to step closer to offer what comfort he can, but Joshua stiffens when he notices him step forward, his posture tightening up in a way that says such behaviour isn’t welcome now. Sighing inwardly, Vasquez sits down rather than risk pushing his partner the wrong way. This is something Joshua needs to do, and Vasquez isn’t going to make it harder by not having his back even when he’s being stubborn.

“Ale, keep an eye on McGregor,” Joshua tells him. Then he stretches the hand holding the canister out over the pattern on the floor, tilting it down until a few drops seep out. A couple of them hit the ground, splashing over the pattern, which sizzles as they land.

“You feel anythin’?” Joshua asks his mother.

“No, but that thing definitely reacted to bein’ hit,” she replies. “Try addin’ some more.”

Doing as requested, this time Joshua pours a stream of liquid out over the pattern, thoroughly obscuring a portion of it. This time the reaction is much more noticeable, with steam flaring up from the splashes, and behind him McGregor makes a desperate lunge for the container.

Vasquez sees him before he starts to move, and it’s the work of a moment to catch the man’s shirt with his teeth and drag him back, much to McGregor’s dismay if the muffled cursing is anything to go by.

“Josh, use it all,” Ellie says, a note of certainty ringing out in her voice as her son obediently does as requested. “Whatever you’re doin’ is workin’, and it’s not like we want any of this crap left lyin’ around where someone could stumble over it anyway. Get rid of it.”

Joshua spills the remainder of the liquid out onto the floor, finally putting the cap back on once it’s all gone. As he steps back out of the way, the steam or smoke or whatever the hell it is ratchets up tenfold, billowing around them as it sweeps over the room. “I don’t know what the fuck is happenin’, but everybody get away!”That’s probably a good idea, Vasquez thinks, but before anyone can move the temperature plummets, and a furious howling noise tears throughout the room as the remaining ghosts appear en masse.

“Get out of their way!” Someone, it sounds like Ellie shouts. Not having to be told twice, Vasquez takes the merest hint of a moment to ascertain that Joshua’s moving too before heading for the exit.

He’s just cleared the threshold of the doorway when somebody screams. Afraid one of his companions hadn’t been quick enough to escape; he whirls around and finds McGregor writhing on the ground, his gag gone now but the return of his voice doing him no good as most of the spirits converge on him, clearly intent on doing him harm.

“Fuck,” Joshua breathes, coming to a stop behind him. He’s limping the way he does when his bad leg is in a mood, but otherwise seems unharmed. “What the fuck is happenin’?”

“You set the rest of them free when you destroyed the seal,” Ellie says. Unlike the remainder of the raised dead, she apparently has no interest in tearing apart the man who’d forced her back into a parody of life. “Now that they’re of their own minds again, they’ve decided to deal with him as they see fit.”

“No wonder he didn’t want us to touch the seal,” Joshua murmurs. He’s grimly watching the sight in front of him as it unfolds, but, Vasquez notes, makes no move to go to the mage’s aid. Even if he were able to do anything, Vasquez suspects he wouldn’t. “He knew this was goin’ to happen.”

“Or at least was seriously afraid it would,” his mother agrees. “Me, though, I can’t say as I feel overly sorry for him. And besides,” she raises a shoulder in a one armed shrug, “it’s not like we would’ve been able to hold him in a jail cell. If they didn’t take care of him, we’d have to.”

Vasquez hadn’t thought of that, but he supposes she has a point. On the other hand, he thinks as he watches McGregor gasp his last breaths, at least they’d have made it is quick as possible. What was happening now was anything but. Deciding he’s had enough, he shudders and looks away as the mage continues to scream.

*****

With McGregor dead the ghosts start fading out of sight, but this time Vasquez doesn’t think they’re coming back. As he watches, the little girl slips away between one blink and the next, with each of the other ghosts following her until only Ellie remains. Vasquez makes an inquiring noise when he realizes she’s still here.

“Ma?” Joshua asks. He takes a half a step towards her, freezing when he sees the look on her face.

Staring at her hands, Ellie doesn’t seem to hear him at first. A couple of seconds tick by, and Vasquez notices that, while she may still be present, she’s starting to fade; it’s just that she’s doing it more slowly than the others like her had.

“ _Ma_ ,” Joshua says again, more insistently this time, and she turns to look at him.

“Sorry, baby,” she says sadly. “I don’t think we’ve got much time left.”

She shouldn’t even be here at this point, Vasquez doesn’t think, not based on what’s happened to the rest of the ghosts. He can only assume she’s stuck around this long due to sheer stubborn force of will, probably the same will that had seen her son survive taking five bullets to the chest in one fight.

It occurs to him suddenly that he shouldn’t be here. The Faradays deserve a chance to say goodbye, for real this time, without him around to witness it.

Vasquez considers his options for a moment, and then nudges his snout against Joshua’s thigh. When the man glances down at him, he jerks his head in the direction of the exit, trying to make his intentions plain. Thankfully, Joshua seems to understand him.

“Okay, darlin’,” he says softly, scratching at one of Vasquez’s ears. “I’ll come find you when I’m done. Thanks.”

Unwilling to intrude any longer, Vasquez lopes out of the room as soon as he can. He makes his way to the outskirts of the cemetery, finding the spot where they’d left the car, and settles down on a nearby grassy hillock, for some reason not wanting to switch back to human. Instead, he rests his head on his front paws, resigning himself to waiting until Joshua’s ready to leave.

*****

Faraday watches Alejandro pad out of the room until he vanishes from sight. Part of him wants to beg the were to stay, making it so he's not alone when the inevitable happens, but his more rational sense of self knows that's a bad idea. Alejandro will be there when this is all over, and that's what matters.

He turns back to his mother, and finds that she's watching him sadly. A feeling of sorrow blooms heavy in his gut. He knows they don't have much time, but suddenly he has no idea what to say. There have been countless nights where he's lain awake thinking about how he'd say goodbye if ever given the chance, yet now that it's actually happening he's got nothing.

"Ma, I," he starts roughly, only to have his voice give out immediately thereafter.

She dredges up a smile from somewhere. "I know, baby," she says softly. "I don't want to go either."

He shudders. "It's not fair," he chokes out. "It's not fuckin' fair."

"No," she agrees, "and it never was." Reaching out with one hand, she runs translucent fingers along his cheek. He can't feel them, only the cold that indicates where they should be.

"I wanted so badly to watch you grow up, settle down, see what you'd make of yourself." Her smile dims. "I guess I got a glimpse of that these past couple of nights, but I missed so much and now I won't get another chance."

Faraday knows all about lost chances where she's concerned. At the time of her death he'd have given absolutely anything to get her back, even for a moment, just to say goodbye. He knows he survived losing her in the end, but at the time he hadn't thought he could.

He has to clear the air, he realizes. Maybe in the grand scheme of things it won't do anything, but he's never going to get another opportunity and he can't waste it.

"Ma," he starts raggedly. "Why didn't you tell me somethin' was wrong, that you were sick?"

She cups his cheek, and this time he can almost swear he can feel something. "I made a decision," she says finally. "In hindsight it probably wasn't the right one. It was selfish. I thought I didn't want to make you have to watch me die, but mainly I don't think I wanted to watch you grieve while I was still alive."

"I deserved to know," he says in response. "I - do you have any idea what it felt like to get a call from some doctor I’d never met and learn that not only were you gone, but you'd deliberately sent me away so I wouldn't be there when it happened?"

She swallows noticeably, and he can't be certain but he thinks her fingers have picked up a tremor. "No, I don't know what it felt like, but you're right that it wasn't fair. I should have done better by you and I didn't. I'm sorry."

And just like that it's like a weight he didn't know he's been carrying all these years is lifted off his back. All this time and it turns out what he wanted was just to have how he felt acknowledged. He sighs, ducking his head. "I was alone an awful long time after that," he admits. "It sucked."

"I'm sorry, baby," she says again. "It wasn't right. I'm just so glad you're not alone anymore, that you've got Ale in your corner."

"It's not just him," Faraday tells her, realizing belatedly that he's never mentioned the rest of the pack. "He came as part of a set."

"Yeah?" She asks, and her smile is still watery, but not as much as before. "I'd wondered if he was on his own or not. Werefolk do tend to come in groups. Is it a big pack?"

"Nine countin' me," he says, not missing the way her smile grows as he includes himself in the number. "Most of 'em have a few years on Ale and I, but there's a pair of little ones you'd get a kick out of."

"I'm sure I would," she agrees, "and it's probably a hoot watchin' you all interact."

She cocks her head to the side, clearly considering something. Finally, she asks, "Would you tell me about them? I'd like to hear before I go."

Faraday thinks about how his phone is resting in his back pocket, chalk full of images of the pack in all their glory. He doesn't know how much longer they have, if it's seconds or minutes or hours, but the thought of introducing her to the family he's found for himself settles pleasantly over his shoulders, not unlike curling up in a warm blanket after a hard day.

"Sure," he says roughly, his voice thick. "I can do that."

*****

In the end he gets to tell her the abridged version of how he and Alejandro met, accompanied by photographic evidence of who's who. From there he segues into more general stories about the pack, how they blend together despite all their quirks and idiosyncrasies, somehow becoming something that works even with all their differences.

He tells her about Red and Teddy's enthusiasm, Goodnight's eccentricities and Billy's loyalty. About Sam's staunch determination to protect them all and Emma's willingness to do whatever it takes to make that happen. He tells her about Jack, and how grief had done a number on him, but still hadn't beaten him down.

And he tells her about Alejandro. Never mind that she's met him, seen him, any of it. He tells her about the man who wasn't supposed to be more than a one night stand, but had somehow seen more than Faraday had meant to let on. He talks about habits and attitudes, about a nose always buried in books when he can find them, about food snobbery and a sweet tooth that was damn near unparalleled by any Faraday had ever seen before, about a willingness to forgive someone who didn't deserve it.

She listens to it all, sometimes interjecting with little quips of her own, but mainly just making appreciative noises over his stories.

"I'm glad you found them," she says when he inevitably reaches a lull. "They sound like everythin' I could've wanted for you, and ..."

She stops, one hand stretching out to cup his face. This time, he swears he can feel her fingers, warm this time and just as gentle as they were when he was a kid. Then she smiles one last time, and he's alone.

Faraday lets out a shaky breath. He doesn't bothering calling out to ask if she's still there, he knows she isn't. There's an emptiness to the room that wasn't present before.

With trembling hands he takes the phone he's still holding, managing to stuff it back into his pocket after only a few tries. After that he spends a minute or two just breathing, trying to focus on what to do now.

It occurs to him suddenly that he's not actually alone. Alejandro's waiting for him outside somewhere, as fierce and loyal as anyone Faraday could ever ask for. He doesn't have to go through this again by himself.

Standing, he takes one last look at his surroundings, wondering if he'll ever be back. Then he shrugs. Picking his way through the debris, he exits the crypt, not stopping until he's well clear of it and spots a familiar furry shape curled up at the base of a large tree.

"Hey, darlin'," he says softly.

Alejandro lifts his head off his paws, wagging his tail for added measure. He moves to get up as Faraday draws near, but stops at the sight of a raised hand, cocking his head to the side expectantly.

"There's no need to rush," Faraday tells him. Sucking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he settles down next to the were, huffing out a laugh when a cold nose pokes him in the chin, followed almost immediately by a warm tongue flicking along the side of his face.

"Oh, gross," he groans. "Screw off, you big mutt. That's disgustin'."

Unperturbed, Alejandro nuzzles at his jaw, making no move to protest when Faraday gets an arm around him and buries his face in his fur.

"She's gone," he says now, grateful for the way the thick strands muffle his voice. It hits him all of a sudden that everything is over, that he's never going to see his mother again, at least not in this lifetime. The thought shouldn't hurt as much as it does, he thinks, not when he's already gone so long without her. "Fuck."

Alejandro whines, pulling back to try and nose at the side of his face again, but that's not what Faraday wants. He shoves at the were until he can hide away in the fur coat again. "Can we just - like this, please?"

Faraday's not sure what he's trying to say, but luckily he doesn't have to be. Alejandro seems to get what he needs, lying back in a ball and letting Faraday curl around him to just breathe.

They say like that for an untold amount of time, and if there's a damp patch on Alejandro's fur by the time they’re done, well, no one needs to know that but them.

*****

Contrary to what he’s expecting, Alejandro doesn’t change back to human when Faraday finally decides he’s ready to leave the cemetery. Instead, he stays fully wolfed out, and crams himself awkwardly in the front seat of the car, not seeming to the mind the fact that he absolutely does not fit in his current shape.

“You gonna be alright like that?” Faraday asks dubiously as they pull out of the parking lot.

He gets an affirmative yip for his troubles, and Alejandro brings a paw up to scrabble at the window controls while Faraday tries to concentrate on his driving. It takes him a couple attempts, but eventually he manages to make it work so he can stick his head out and enjoy the breeze.

“I’m tellin’ Red about this,” Faraday tells him. “Emma too. You make fun of them for doin’ that all the damned time, and now look. They’ll never let you hear the end of it.”

Without bothering to pull his head inside, Alejandro yawns to show how unconcerned he is. Faraday thinks about warning him he’ll catch flies like that, but chooses not to in the end. It’s no skin off his back if the were doesn’t think that far ahead.

The lights are still on when they get back to the house, indicating that Christine’s awake and waiting for them. “Now, are you goin’ to play nice with her?” Faraday asks as he comes around to open the door so Alejandro can hop out. “Remember it was me who was causin’ you grief earlier, she didn’t know what you were.”

Alejandro gives a nonchalant wag of his tail and starts padding up the stone walkway that leads to the house. He waits mostly patiently for Faraday to key the lock to let him inside, and then strides into the front entrance with ease.

“Chris?” Faraday calls, wanting to make it clear who’s entering the house, so the older hunter doesn’t accidently shoot either of them. “Where are you hidin’?”

“I’m not hiding anywhere, kid,” comes the gruff reply, and he turns in the direction of the living room at the sound. Christine rolls her eyes as he walks in. “Is it over then?” Her voice is flat as she asks, but he knows her well enough to hear the emotion lurking beneath the surface.

“It’s over,” he says simply. He doesn’t much feel like talking about what’s happened, and luckily the look on Christine’s face makes him think she’s in the same boat. “How’re you feelin’?”

“Tired,” she admits, “but I guess also relieved that’s the end of it. Did she go peacefully in the end?”

Faraday remembers the small smile on his mother’s face and the phantom touch of her hand on his cheek. He sighs. “As peacefully as possible.”

“Good,” Christine replies, and he can tell that’s going to be the end of this discussion. “Where’s your boy at?”

“Hmm?” Looking around, Faraday realizes Alejandro hasn’t followed him into the living room, and has instead vanished. “Uh, that’s a good question. He was right here a minute ago.”

“Well, I’m sure he’ll turn up. Come on, pull up a seat and tell your second favorite lady just what you’ve been getting into since I saw you last.” Christine grins as she gestures him towards the couch across from where she’s sitting. “I’m betting you’ve got at least one hell of a story for how you met tall, dark, and canine.”

“Yeah, we’re not goin’ there, thanks,” Faraday tells her, even as he takes a seat like indicated, “but I guess I could tell you a story or two.”

Alejandro reappears not long after, still wolfed out and apparently in no mood to change that. He balks ever so slightly when Christine’s gaze lands on him, though Faraday doesn’t think she notices, but in the end crosses the living room so he can come commandeer the space on the couch that Faraday isn’t already occupying.

As well as some of it he is, Faraday realizes as he winds up with a decent chunk of werewolf bulk sprawled over his lap. Cutting himself off in the middle of a tale he’d been telling Christine about a poltergeist who hadn’t known when enough was enough, he tweaks one of Alejandro’s ears in a silent reprimand. “You are fuckin’ heavy, I hope you realize that.”

Since his sole response is a snort, Faraday determines that, while Alejandro might realize it, he also doesn’t care. Tugging at his ear again, Faraday laughs when the motion earns him a playful growl. “Alright then. You’re in a weird mood, aren’t you?”

From her spot opposite him, Christine chuckles. “I can’t believe I spent most of the day not noticing what he is. And you, you little shit,” she adds, shooting Faraday her best mock glare, “I’m going to get you for playing me like that.”

“Not if this one gets me first,” Faraday assures her, and Alejandro grunts his agreement at this statement. “Trust me; he was not keen on the idea.”

“Yeah, well.” Christine trails off, and rubs the back of her neck almost sheepishly. “I get why you did it. Sorry for snapping earlier. It just took me by surprise, is all.”

Faraday shrugs. “He has that effect on people – _ow_!” Pulling his hand back, Faraday inspects his wrist where it’s just been nipped; eyeing it critically to see if the skin’s broken. “That hurt, jackass.”

Twisting around to peer up at him, Alejandro wags his tail, but otherwise does nothing.

“Hmph,” Faraday says. Letting his arm fall back on the lip of the couch, he’s planning to let that be the end of it, until Alejandro stretches up and paws at the side of his jaw. “What? What in the world do you want?”

In answer, the were rolls all the way onto his back, none to subtly presenting the soft fur of his belly.

“Seriously?” Faraday asks. “That’s what you’re after?”

Alejandro’s tail wags even more furiously, and he makes an insistent noise in the back of his throat, one that melts into a pleased sigh when Faraday sighs and shifts his hand down to bury it in his fur.

He knows what Alejandro’s doing, is the thing, knows full well he’s being played in an effort distract him from the night he’s had. Even more so, he knows it’s coming from a place of love, one he’s still not sure how to handle even a year after they’d first met. A quick glance up at Christine, and her knowing smirk makes him think she’s onto Alejandro too.

“He’s a fuckin’ hedonist,” Faraday growls in an effort to cover up his sudden embarrassment. Not that it does any good. He can tell full well he’s blushing. “You’ll never meet anyone more shameless.”

“Well,” Christine says lightly, settling back further in her chair in an indication that she’s ready to get back to swapping stories, “at least he’ll keep you on your toes.”

Faraday can’t help but laugh at this, some of the night’s residual tension seeping out of him along with the sound. “You don’t say? Alright,” he adds, leaning back against the couch cushions with Alejandro a comfortable weight at his hip. “Now, where was I?”

*****

Despite the state of her leg, Christine stomps downstairs to see them off the next morning. "Don't tell me you thought I'd let you sneak off without a proper goodbye, did you?" Grinning wide, she reaches out to thump Faraday on the shoulder. "Come on, kid, you know better than that."

Grunting, Faraday manfully resists the urge to shove her back. "What's it goin' to take to make you stop callin' me kid?" He asks. 

She gives him a thoughtful look. "I dunno. Death, probably."

Alejandro snorts where he's doing one last check to see they've properly packed everything. "What?" He asks when Faraday turns to glare at him. "Be fair, guero, there are far worse things she could call you."

"Ain't that the truth," Christine drawls. She gives Alejandro a wink. "And I bet you'd be able to name a number of 'em too."

"Sí," he replies. Finally convinced the bags are as they should be, he slings his own over his shoulder and then offers Christine his hand to shake. "Maybe I'll tell you some of them the next time we see each other."

If she thinks there's something odd in his assumption that this won't be the last time they meet, Christine doesn't show it. Instead, she takes the offered hand, shakes it, and follows it up with a wave as he heads out of the house. "Not one for long goodbyes, is he?"

Remembering a specific night out on a back porch, Faraday shrugs. "Depends on the circumstances. Are you sure you're goin' to be okay here by yourself? We can stick around a little longer if you like."

Christine snorts. "Something tells me your boy wouldn't enjoy that much."

Unconcerned, Faraday shrugs again. He knows Alejandro wants to get home, but he also knows he'll stay if Faraday asks him to. He’s good like that. "Don't worry about him. I can always bribe him with food."

"I'm sure," Christine agrees. Then she shrugs. "Nah. You two get out of here and get back to ... wherever it is you call home."

She doesn't ask, and Faraday doesn't tell. As much as he trusts Christine, the same can't be said for all of the hunting community. The best way to keep his family safe is to keep his mouth shut, and that's why he doesn't tell her there's a full pack waiting on their return. What she doesn't know, she can't ever be forced to reveal.

"Thanks, Chris," he says instead, and she smiles without bothering to ask him what for.

"Alright, give me a damn hug and then get out of here before that fella of yours leaves you behind."

"He wouldn't," Faraday says confidentially as he leans into her embrace. "He likes me too much."

"More fool him," she replies, but the way her arms wrap tightly around him makes it obvious what the truth is. "Take care of yourself, Josh, and take care of him too. Observation suggests you've got a good thing going here, so don't fuck it up."

"Not fuckin' it up is the plan," he agrees as he pulls back. "See you, Chris."

"Mhm." She pokes him one last time for good measure. "Try and call more often, brat."

"Deal." Hoisting his own bag over his shoulder, Faraday gives her a two finger wave and heads out of the house.

Alejandro's safely stowed his own gear and is sitting on the hood of the car for some reason when Faraday comes out. He scrambles down as soon as he sees him though. "All done?"

"All done," Faraday agrees. "You ready to go home?"

"Sí, very much so," is the heartfelt reply, and he's got the passenger side door open and has climbed inside before Faraday can blink.

Chuckling, Faraday tosses his bag in the trunk and slams it shut. He finds Alejandro fidgeting with his seatbelt once he joins him in the car, and cocks his head to the side. "Somethin' wrong, darlin'?"

Alejandro shakes his head. "No, just a bit anxious to leave."

Having figured as much, Faraday doesn't reply, choosing instead to slide his own seatbelt into place and key the ignition.

Neither of them says anything else until their almost to the city limits, at which point Faraday decides he's had enough of the silence. "Hey," he says softly, waiting for Alejandro to turn away from the window and look at him. "Thanks for comin' with me."

Alejandro gives him one of those soft smiles that Faraday's pretty sure are reserved exclusively for him. "Any time, guero."


End file.
